


Black Widow and the Deathstalker

by Sparta10



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Inheritors, Mostly follows MCU but will include situations from the comics, Spiderverse stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-08-05 15:17:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16370075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparta10/pseuds/Sparta10
Summary: The Black Widow and the Deathstalker. Both are expert assassins, both trained in the Red Room, both are sisters. To each other. While Natasha was able to escape her demons when she joined SHIELD, Catherine on the other hand embraced her demons in the absence of her sister. When they reunite after many years of separation, how will these two assassins become sisters again?





	1. A Room Painted Red

AN: Hello everyone. I was planning on releasing a different Marvel fanfic, but I was feeling a bit conflicted about that story and how it would progress. I decided to post a different Marvel fanfic that I felt more comfortable writing.

The premise for this story is pretty simple. Natasha Romanoff has a sister who didn't get out of the Red Room program until later. Sorry if the description was a bit lackluster, I hope this prologue gives you an idea of the future of the story.

This fic (besides the prologue) takes place after Captain America: Winter Soldier. 

Prologue chapter, so it's a bit short. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

Warnings: Lot’s of violence

Enjoy!

A Room Painted Red

Yekaterina Romanova looked down upon her trainer. Madame B always had the perfect fair, clean red lipstick, perfectly manicured nails. 

Now she was beaten and bloody. Her nails were cracked and chipped. Her lipstick smeared, mixing with the blood leaking out of her mouth. 

To Yekaterina she was the devil. 

Pushing her to do better even when she was perfect. Forcing her into the graduation ceremony that made her sterile. The one that forced her older sister Natalia into the same ceremony two years before Yekaterina underwent the process as well. 

She was admitted to the Red Room program despite being two years younger than her sister. 

Yekaterina loved her sister. Her sister was her role model. Her best friend. The person who comforted her when Yekaterina took a particularly bad beating during training. The person who loved her unconditionally.

The Red Room separated the two, forcing Natalia to go out on long term missions, leaving her sister without anyone to hold her at night, to comfort her, to encourage her, to love her.

Her sister, Natalia, became the Black Widow at age 16. She left the Red Room when she was 18 in 2002, joining the organization called SHIELD.

Madame B told Yekaterina that her sister was killed by her enemies.

When Yekaterina heard this she almost cried. Only her training kept her face emotionless and her eyes dry when she heard the news. 

Only when she was sure she was alone did she let the silent tears flow down her face. Her thoughts screamed in agony. The most important person in her life was supposedly gone. Never to be seen again.

Her mind ran on auto-pilot for months at a time. She trained tirelessly, wanting to live up to her sister’s moniker of Black Widow. 

Her dream was to become the next Black Widow, but of course Madame B laughed at her dream. The Madame told her that she will never become as good as her sister. 

So Yekaterina worked harder, became ruthless in her assassinations. Was a brutal opponent to face in combat. 

She used all types of scorpion venom in her assassinations. She dipped her knives in scorpion venom. She spiked drink with scorpion venom. She injected scorpion venom. 

She became the Deathstalker.

Every military organization in the world knew her name. Her assassinations were heard of across the world. She was unstoppable. No target deterred her. No enemy scared her. Man, woman, or child it didn't matter to her. To her, all are equal in the eyes of death.

She was Death’s greatest donator. 

She wished her sister was there to congratulate her. To greet her everytime she returned from a mission, just like Yekaterina did for her all those years ago. She wished her sister was able to see her now.

Yekaterina managed to banish these thoughts out of her mind. The mission came first. Her grief could come later.

Little did she know Natalia Romanova, now Natasha Romanoff, knew the deeds of the Deathstalker. Natasha Romanoff studied the Deathstalker religiously. Studying the patterns of this new assassin.

Natasha discovered that the Deathstalker was extremely well versed in poisons and stealth. An expert in infiltration and assassination.

And like Yekaterina, Natasha never forgot about her sister. And like Yekaterina, Natasha loved her sister. Natasha fondly remembered the days they slept in the same bed. Or when her sister would snuggle into her side when they slept. 

She missed the close familial connection she had with her younger sister. Clint was like a brother to her, but it was never the same, never as strong as it was with her younger sister. 

Natasha vowed to herself that one day she would find her sister. Natasha had her suspicions about the identity of Deathstalker. There was a possibility that the elusive assassin was her sister.

But that didn't matter to Natasha, her sister was her sister. The person she loved most in the world. No matter how dangerous, Natasha would love her all the same. Natasha couldn't wait to be with her sister again.

Now back to Yekaterina.

In two years she became the deadly and dangerous Deathstalker. The most feared assassin alive. The Commandant and Madame B were able to keep the fact that Black Widow defected and most certainly not dead. 

It was only when Yekaterina was 18 herself when she learned this fact. She had overheard a heated conversation about her sister’s “death”. Madame B and the Commandant.

Yekaterina nearly turned the corner when she heard the hushed whispering echoing down the hallway.

“Она должна быть устранена. Черная вдова слишком опасна для поддержания жизни! (She must be eliminated. The Black Widow is too much of a threat to keep alive!)” exclaimed the Commandant in a loud whisper. “Отправьте одну из своих девочек, чтобы позаботиться о ней. (Send one of your girls to take care of her.)”

“Один не просто убивает Черную Вдову. (One does not simply kill the Black Widow.)” Madame B sounded incredulous. The Black Widow was her greatest creation, what the Commandant was suggesting was simply ridiculous. 

At this point Yekaterina tuned out the conversation. 

Her sister was alive. The person she loved most in this world was alive. Her happiness quickly turned into murderous anger. 

They lied to her. About something so important, so monumental. This could have changed her life, she would have fought to the death to leave the KGB. Left to find her sister, to be with her again.

Next time she has the chance, she will kill them. The commandant and Madame B will pay a high price for keeping this information from her.

It had taken nearly two years of waiting, waiting, waiting. There were always too many guards in the base or someone was keeping a close eye on her. They must have suspected something was up because they kept here in that grey compound for years, she was basically a prisoner.

Finally her chance came, for one reason or another most of the guards were out of the base celebrating some indistinct holiday. Most of the guards on site would probably lazy and non alerted to a possible attack, especially from the inside, and from one of their best assets.

The Madame and Commandant ordered her to the Commandant’s office. Yekaterina wasn't sure why, they gave her no missions in the last few years, something was up.

As she neared the office she saw the two guards standing on either side of the door. There were also another two guards walking the hallways. All had assault rifles, Russian made of course, and all seem to be relaxed. The hallway guards no less than 5 minutes to reach the office on another round of their patrol.

If she timed this just right, she would be able to get out of the facility. She’d have to kill at least 15 guards to get out if she was lucky. Eh, no problem.

As Yekaterina entered the Commandant’s office she noticed another man, dressed in all black. She immediately noticed the skull and tentacles patch on his shoulder. 

A Hydra agent, that was unexpected. All high level KGB agents had been debriefed on Hydra. An uncertain ally that couldn't be trusted. 

Yekaterina herself was wary of Hydra. Whatever they wanted with her was not good. She could see it in the man’s gaze. His eyes were cold, calculating. His posture rigid, hands behind his back. It was like he looking at a particularly fierce zoo animal. 

Hydra was not a nest she wouldn't usually, willingly, kick. But this was for her sister, so she could get back to her. His death didn't mean anything to her, just another corpse.

The Commandant sat behind the desk, the Madame sitting in front of the desk. The Hydra man stood to her right. The Commandant began speaking, motioning to the man standing next to him. Both were very serious, Madame B was also listening intently.

But Yekaterina wasn’t listening. She was counting seconds. The guards patrolling the hallways would be at the peak of their rounds, as far away from the office as possible. 

3...2...1, now. She abruptly stood and whipped out the Glock she had tucked into her belt. She planted a bullet into the head of Commandant, her aim snapped the Hydra man, another bullet another brain.

She smashed the butt of the gun into the face of the Madame. The two guards rushed into the room. Their guns weren't even raised. Amateurs. She popped a few more shots killing the two guards. Their lifeless bodies slumping against the door frame. 

She looked down at the Madame for a brief moment. Seeing her bruised face, broken nails, smeared lipstick. She smiled, too bad she couldn't have more fun with the Madame before she died.

The Madame couldn't get out a word before she was executed. 

She rushed out of the office, snatching one of the AK-47s off of the fallen guard. The safety was on. Jesus, they really were as bad as she thought.

She sprinted down the bland grey walls off the St.Petersburg’s KGB base. 

Boots were rushing after her, but not in sight. She turned a corner and waited until the sounds of boots came closer. She abruptly turned the corner and squeezed the trigger. Shooting controlled bursts into the chests of four guards. They fell to the ground, blood pooling around their dark grey gorgets.

She continued down the hallway and spotted three more guards in front of her. She quickly slid to one knee and put bullets into all three with practiced precision.

She turned another corner and literally ran into two more guards. They were too slow to react as she snapped one of their windpipes with a quick palm strike. The second man threw a sloppy punch. She easily trapped his arm and snapped in at the elbow. 

The man’s screaming was quickly cut off when Yekaterina shoved the barrel of her glock on his temple and pulled the trigger. Decorating the walls with his brains and blood. 

She was so close the forest door. Which would lead her to the outskirts of St.Petersburg and the countryside of Russia, to freedom, to her sister.

She snatched a grenade off of the brainless guard. She heard more boots approaching. She pulled the pin and sprinted forward, it took a few seconds but she finally reached the corner of the hallway and spotted seven more guards rushing down the hallway.

She tossed the primed grenade into their midst. It only took a split second before an explosion and men’s screams started ringing through halls. The deafening explosion ripped off limbs, shook off decade old dust from the ceiling. The grey painted halls now brightened by a mess of red and pink.

Yekaterina jumped over dead bodies, screaming, bleeding out men, detached limbs, ruined weapons.

She sprinted to the green door that lead out to the suburbs of St.Petersburg. Into the cold forest surrounding the compound.

She breathed deeply. The crisp cold air invaded her nostrils. She exhaled. The scent of pine still lingering in her nose. She was finally free.

Her legs pumped her faster and faster through the woods. 

She was already on most country’s wanted list. Adding Russia was like a drop of water in a lake. 

Hydra on the other hand was an entirely new monster. A rainstorm that floods the lake. 

With Hydra on her tail, it will be a long time before she is able to see her sister again. The thought saddens her, although anyone looking at her wouldn't know this. It was worth it though.

Her sister was alive and safe. If Yekaterina couldn't find Natalia, then maybe Natalia can find Yekaterina. 

Yekaterina Lyudmila Romanova escaped the KGB on May 1st, 2006. 

For years to come she kept her Deathstalker name. She finally settled in southern France and became a mercenary for hire in 2009.

Hydra’s best agents were sent after her. After the death of one of their head agents at the KGB branch in St.Petersburg, Yekaterina became one of their most wanted people. If they could capture her and use the memory wipe procedure on her, she could become one of their best assets. They have yet to capture her.

In 2012 Catherine Romanoff a.k.a. Yekaterina Romanova finally saw a picture of her sister on TV. Her sister had battled aliens in New York, her sister was a hero. Black Widow was not only a feared assassin but a revered hero.

In 2014 Hydra orchestrated the downfall of SHIELD. Natasha Romanoff was under heavy scrutiny after she released thousands of classified Hydra documents. Some documents held information on both the infamous Black Widow and the Deathstalker.

Finally after years of waiting the two sisters finally reunited after 12 years of waiting the two sisters finally reunited in Paris in 2014. 

AN: I am a relatively new writer so bare with me as I learn the ropes of writing fiction, creating complex relationships, fight scenes, etc. 

So I hope you enjoyed that first prologue chapter. I’m not used to writing longer chapters (5k+ words) but I want to start doing so. Thanks!


	2. Changes Through Time

AN: Next chapter. I have been grinding out the next few chapters just to get the story rolling. 

“Hello”=Normal speech (French)  
“приветствие (Hello)”=Normal, non french, speech  
‘Hello’=Thoughts

All of Yekaterina’s dialogue with other characters will be French. I am not going to write out and translate entire conversations in French. So assume whenever she is talking to someone it is in French unless I specifically point out that it isn't. 

Be sure to read the little language tidbits each chapter just so you know what language is currently being spoken. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

Warnings: Rated M

Enjoy!

April 17, 2014, New York City, USA

Natasha was sitting at the kitchen table in her small apartment in New York. She was poring over several of the documents from the Hydra leak. 

It's been almost a week since the collapse of SHIELD. She felt conflicted about the entire mess, even though she was the one to bring about the mess in the first place.

Like she told Steve earlier, she traded one evil for another. 

Working for the KGB meant you worked for your country. The KGB’s main mission was to keep the security and safety of the Motherland intact. 

Meaning killing targets that could potentially endanger the Russian people or government. Killing those who intended to claim or endanger Russian interests. 

Unlike Hydra, the KGB were a nationalist focused organization under direct control of the Russian government. 

Then she joined SHIELD at age 18, or at least that’s what they told her. 

She knew she was much older than 18. She suspected many things about her age and the best she could come up with was she was born shortly after the second world war and her sister a few years after her. 

The amount of missions she went on and the amount of time she spent in the grey walls of KGB compounds made her lose her sense of time. 

All she knew was that she and her sister were at least 60 years old, probably older. 

Back to her joining of SHIELD. 

There she felt like she was doing the right thing, protecting people all over the world. Not for a certain country’s interest but for the interest of the innocent people of the world. 

SHIELD was made for good intentions, sometimes by any means necessary, but in the end innocent people were saved. 

SHIELD was also to be her redemption. 

After all of the blood she shed under the name of Black Widow, SHIELD still took her in and gave her a chance to become someone new. Albeit still shedding blood, yet it was for the free world, for those who cannot protect themselves. For the good of the world. 

Fury called it global security. 

Maintaining the era of peace was the goal of SHIELD. 

If it means developing weapons from a cube that comes from mythical legends, then sure that's what they'll do. 

If they want to bring a man who died back to life to work for them again, then they'll do that too. Or something like that, Natasha really doesn't understand all the details. 

In the end SHIELD was meant to be the organization that cleaned her ledger, wiped away the blood off of her hands, somehow lessen the guilt she feels for leaving her sister at the hands of the Red Room.

SHIELD led her to Clint and Laura. To their kids who she loved. SHIELD gave her a way to care without worrying about some kind of sick punishment. But no matter how many things SHIELD gave her, she will always feel the sting in her heart when she left her sister. 

That guilt never went away. 

She didn't know whether or not her sister was still alive, whether she became an assassin like her. Maybe Yekaterina forgot Natalia, lost her emotions to the Red Room, lost everything when her sister left. 

Natasha couldn't get the pain of her loss out of her mind even though she inflicted it upon herself. 

There were days when she wished she never left her sister alone, wished that she could go back and save her and bring her to SHIELD together. But Natasha didn't do that, in a moment of weakness she abandoned her sister to the same terrible fate she endured. To shed more blood than she ever did. 

Natasha loved her sister more than anything in the world. There were so many times in the Red Room and even in SHIELD when she was tempted to turn a gun on herself. But everytime she did that, she remembered the smiling face of her sister, and how that smile would disappear and her her beautiful little face would be streaked with tears if Natasha were to end her own life. 

Natasha had to stay strong for her. 

She devoted her life to finding her little sister and now that SHIELD has fallen and all the files on the Deathstalker, the assassin that might be her sister, were now leaked and open for her to search at her own leisure. 

SHIELD or Hydra, whichever it is or was, gave her the tools to be with her sister again.

Hydra was a problem, even if their destruction of SHIELD helped her find her sister, the fact that Hydra was still a force to be reckoned with on a global scale was worrying. 

After decades of hibernation Hydra emerged again. Generations of Hydra agents passed through SHIELD without the world knowing. Agents she had worked with, ate with, shared parts of their lives with, were Hydra the entire time. 

Natasha knew the world wasn't total black and white. The grey encompassed most conflicts through history. The soldiers on the ground knew no better. Their entire life was devoted to a cause. 

A cause that would likely lead to their death or subjugation. Even then they followed their leaders to their demise. Even if it meant killing their friends, the people they worked with for so many years, thousands of friendships and relationships broken and burned because they were ordered to betray the people closest them. 

In the aftermath Natasha saw the tears on friends who killed friends, crying over the bodies of those who betrayed them. 

People who killed those closest to them, all because of an age old grudge.

All of SHIELD had a goal to bring safety to the world only for those working towards that goal to turn on eachother. To strengthen one cause means to weaken the other.

A loud honk on the street below brought Natasha out of her head and back to the files she was reading. All information about the Deathstalker. Under her many aliases was the name Yekaterina Romanova. 

Hydra didn't know if this was her actual name of another alias, but Natasha knew it was her name. There were other clues among the Deathstalker’s many aliases that pointed out who she really was.

First was Yekaterina Romanova, her real name. Natasa might be the only one who knows her real name. Natasha noticed that there were no missions logged under the name Romanova. Another clue to who she really was.

Another clue to her original name. Another was an alias she used in the Middle East قطة صغيرة, meaning “Little Cat”, something Natasha used to call her when she was many years younger. Her “Little Cat” alias had several high profile assassinations under her name. Most of them Afghan officials. 

The next was младший паук, meaning “Younger Spider”, a little on the nose if you asked Natasha but she didn't mind. Her second and only in use Russian alias completed seven missions over the course of seven years. 

Those were probably the years she was still under the KGB. 

Her german alias was Große Katharina, meaning “Great Catherine”, clearly a reference to her namesake Yekaterina Velikaya also known as Catherine the Great. 

This alias had 22 missions to her name, all against Hydra. 

The Hydra reports said that Deathstalker had broken her way out of the KGB compound in St.Petersburg and killed a Hydra agent in the process. 

‘No wonder Hydra seemed to always be on her tail’ Natasha thought.

Hydra surmised that Deathstalker had become a mercenary for hire and was last seen in France as recent as early 2013. Before Hydra’s fall they had found three possible aliases for Deathstalker while in France. 

Cantarella Margeaux was a zoo-keeper in Paris. 

Cat loved animals but the connections between her sister and Cantarella Margeaux were few and far in between. 

The picture of Cantarella looked nothing like her sister, even if she dyed her hair black and wore special contacts to change her eye color, Natasha could still see that the girl was not her sister.

Rubaline Bertille was a hairdresser in Toulouse.

Rubaline Bertille was definitely closer to her sister. 

One of the things they taught in the Red Room was how to fix your hair. If you are to be an infiltration and assassin specialist, everything must be perfect, even your hair. 

Cat excelled at it. She was fast and smart about how to arrange someone’s hair. She could hide small cameras and microphones in any girls hair, you would have to physically dig through a girls hair to look for the offending object, but by that time you would already be dead. 

But looking at a picture of the girl, she wore far too much make-up to the point she looked like Barbie Doll. That was not her sister.

Raina La Row worked as a Russian language teacher in Cannes.

Raina La Row was her sister. 

She knew it. 

The meaning of the name is subtle but Natasha caught it easily. Raina meant queen, referencing Cat’s namesake. La Row meant red hair, referencing the red hair that both she and her sister shared. 

But the fact that Raina La Row is a language teacher confirmed to Natasha that Raina La Row was her sister. 

Her sister Cat, as Natasha liked to call her, used to teach different languages to the girls in the Red Room. Cat was an expert when it came to languages. 

Some of the girls in the Red Room had trouble with languages, every time they couldn't remember a word or maybe they pronounced a word wrong, they would be punished, which usually involved a heavy beating. The rest of the girls watched as the offenders would be punished. None of them ever moved to help. 

The beatings were becoming more and more frequent and soon enough Cat used her large knowledge of languages to teach the girls in the middle of the night. 

Natasha was usually asleep but there were times when she watched her little Cat quietly pad across the cold stone floor to the other bunks. There she verbally taught 12 or 13 girls many different languages. 

Soon enough the beating stopped and the Madame was none the wiser. 

Looking at the picture, Natasha recognized her sister right away. 

Her hair and green eyes stood out especially. Her eyes were a slightly brighter green than Natasha’s. Cat’s red curly hair closely resembles the hair style she wore when she went undercover in Stark industries several years ago. 

Cat’s lips were thinner than Natasha’s. Her cheekbones were less pronounced that Natasha’s as well. And unlike Natasha’s unblemished face, there was a small, thin scar on Cat’s right cheek. As well as two more thinner, almost faded, scars vertically crossing her lips just to the right of her nose. 

Yes, the differences were subtle, but this was her sister all grown up. 

Tears threatened to spring from her eyes. This is the first time Natasha has seen her sister since her defection to SHIELD. She looked so beautiful, so grown, so mature. 

Natasha wiped her slightly damp eyes and read on. Hydra certainly was persistent.

Former KGB agent Deathstalker has been rumored to be located somewhere in France. No known associates, if any known associates are found report immediately. If Deathstalker is spotted continue tail and give a verbal report to your superior officer. If possible proceed to capture subject and find the nearest Hydra memory wipe center. If Doctor List and his team are able to wipe her memory, the Deathstalker would be a perfect asset to our cause and the downfall of SHIELD  
Hail Hydra  
Wolfgang von Strucker

Strucker’s instructions made it clear that Hydra’s main objective concerning the Deathstalker was capture and recondition. 

If Hydra were to capture Deathstalker earlier the fall of SHIELD would have turned out much worse for the world. Hydra would probably still exist to a stronger degree than they currently do. 

Her sister was a master assassin, maybe even better than Natasha, she was extremely dangerous. 

She takes her time, waits, listens, gets close, and then strikes. 

While under the KGB Natasha’s style of assassination was more direct. Most of her missions wouldn't take any longer than two or three months. Those months gave her time to watch her target, get close to the target, seduce the target if needed, then kill the target. 

Her sister on the other hand would take on targets that have connections to larger targets. Her sister could take years to finish a mission. 

She would study her targets till she knew everything about them. She wouldn't seduce like Natasha would, she would get close to her target slowly, build a relationship, go out on dates, have sex, leave on vacations. 

She would essentially turn herself into a semi-normal person with a semi-normal relationship. Natasha wouldn't be surprised if her sister had been married to her target on several occasions. 

During those years Cat would learn about the connections her target possesed. Whether it be to another organization like the KGB or a larger corporate target, Cat would find a way to somehow worm her way to the top of those ladders. 

Once all the information she could learn was learned she would kill her target and move back to the KGB. 

Natasha knew that her sister was destroyed emotionally every time she returned. 

Natasha knew that in some cases, her sister built real relationships that she actually cared about, real love that she was forced to destroy. 

Natasha remembered every time she returned from those missions. Natasha would hold her as she cried herself to sleep for the rest of week, Natasha kiss her hair and tell her it would be alright. 

These memories made Natasha want to find her sister even more. 

All of Raina La Row’s contact information was present in the file. Natasha wasn't sure if calling her sister would be a good idea. Any remnants of Hydra might still be looking for her as a last resort, to keep themselves afloat. 

Natasha took a picture of her right thumb and typed out a quick message in Russian and sent it to Raina La Row.

No matter if Natasha had to burn her way through the Europe, no matter if her sister hated her for what she did, Natasha will find and make it up to her. 

Be with her again. 

Hug her again. 

Hold her while she slept again. 

To love her again. 

To be her big sister again.

April 17, 2014, Cannes, France

The classroom was mostly quiet, her students were working in their textbooks, light chatter floated through the air. 

The school year was coming to a close and most her students were suffering from end of the year procrastination. 16 and 17 year olds could be hard to deal with at the end of the school year.

She saw one of her students, Marie, stand up and walk over to her desk. “May I use the bathroom?” she asked.

Raina just raised her eyebrows. Marie rolled her eyes playfully. “Могу я воспользоваться ванной? (May I use the bathroom?)” she asked again, this time in Russian. Raina just nodded. 

Raina had told them to use Russian whenever they are in her classroom. It helps the student learn the language better, especially if it's used in conversation. 

Raina’s thoughts were cut off by a light, single, buzz on her desk. Her phone was lit up with a text message, an unknown American number. 

She looked up to her class again. They were all working diligently, lightly conversing with their desk partners. None of them payed her any attention. 

She picked up her phone and opened the message. The first thing she was was part of a hand, a right hand, most likely a woman's. 

Her breath caught, there was a small crescent moon shaped scar located in the middle of the women's right thumb. Rained looked away from her phone to her left hand, specifically her left thumb and spotted the identical crescent moon shaped scar. 

She remembered the day she and her sister gave themselves those small scars. A way to identify each other if they were ever separated. 

Looking back at her phone she saw a message that made her heart race with joy.

“До скорой встречи, моя Маленькая кошка.” 

See you soon, my Little Cat.


	3. Briefing

AN: Sorry this chapter came a bit late. I already wrote a chapter but I decided I wanted an interlude with Natasha and the Avengers before I got into a Raina/Cat POV.

“Hello”=Normal speech (English)  
“приветствие (Hello)”=Normal, non english, speech  
‘Hello’=Thoughts

Be sure to read the little language tidbits each chapter just so you know what language is currently being spoken. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

Warnings: Mild cursing 

Enjoy!

April 18, 2014, New York City, USA

Avengers tower stood proud in the center of New York City. The sleek building was a breath of fresh air after walking through the concrete jungle of Manhattan. 

After the fall of SHIELD most of the Avengers either resided in the tower or came into work almost everyday.

Stark being the main benefactor and supplier of the Avengers was staying in the tower full time with Pepper. He’s been spending most of his days tracking the remains of Hydra. Their bases, operatives, and possible experiments they may be conducting. Being the spokesperson of the Avengers he was the one usually releasing news of the previous missions or the progress of new tech he’s creating. And the Avengers essentially being a subsidiary of Stark Industries means that he and Pepper are almost required to be involved.

Former Deputy Director of SHIELD Maria Hill was hired by Stark to essentially manage the Avengers. She worked on logistics, mission briefings, mission planning, living expenses, etc. She worked on nearly everything and anything involved with the Avengers. Most times she came to the tower in the early hours of the morning, almost each day. She lived nearby so coming to work wasn't a problem for her. 

After the fall of SHIELD Steve and Sam have split their time with either searching for Bucky Barnes or going on Avengers missions. Sam didn't usually join them for their missions but he and Steve have formed a strong partnership while finding Steve’s friend. When they are in New York they are rooming together in Steve’s apartment in Brooklyn. When Sam isn't in New York he is spending his time back down in D.C. working at the V.A.. Natasha can understand Steve’s insistence that they find Barnes soon, as she was looking for her sister for many years.

Dr.Banner lived in the tower as he wasn't the most popular person in the world, so he spent most of his time in his lab at the tower. He spent most of his time doing small lab experiments with Stark or working on his reports. She didn't see him much while she was at the tower. 

Clint lived at his farmhouse out in rural New York with Laura and the kids. He came in everyday besides the weekends and spent most of his time planning out attacks with Hill. Either that or he spent time buying groceries for the tower’s kitchen where they all at lunch everyday. Basically playing Dad for the Avengers which was funny to watch at times when he tried to parent Stark.

Thor spent most of his time outside the towers and exploring the world. He was still a relatively new addition to Earth and he had many things to see. Sometimes he and Steve would catch up on the things they missed together, making for some fun entertainment when they saw something for the first time. Of course Thor joined them on every mission, wanting to bask in the glory of defeating his enemies.

Dr.Helen Cho came around to the tower to discuss her medical technology with Tony or Bruce. She was an important benefactor when it came to providing medical attention to the Avengers when they needed it. She spent most of her time in Korea researching better ways to utilize her healing tech and the Avengers are her guinea pigs in a way. 

Rhodey was another regular around the tower, especially when Tony hosted parties, he and Pepper made sure Tony didn't get too drunk again. Rhodes also spent a lot of time working with the Military, specifically under Secretary Ross. 

Natasha herself didn't want to live in the tower with Stark. She came into the tower the same times Clint came in. For the weekends she would go spend them at the Barton farmhouse with Clint and his family. Other than that Natasha’s days were spent planning her trip to France. 

Speaking of, only Clint knew that she had a sister, even knew that she was an assassin like herself, but what he didn't know was that she was the infamous Deathstalker. He’d probably have a fit. Maybe she could introduce Cat to the Bartons, make connections just like she did when she left the KGB. Or maybe she already had connections in France. She did teach at a school so maybe she did have connections.

As Natasha neared the Avengers towers, she had to push past throngs of fans and cosplayers to get to the main door, which was guarded by private security. The Avengers were still like celebrities. 

With inventor Tony Stark, war hero Captain America, and norse god Thor, there were sure to be plenty of fans vying for something, anything from their heroes. 

Lightly pushing aside an Iron Man kid, she quickly swiped her keycard and entered the building. The reception area was relatively empty besides the two receptionists behind the large desk in the center of the room. 

She made a beeline to the private elevators that took her up to the private floors of the tower. 

Floors that included Tony’s and Bruce’s labs. Another few floors for their rooms. A large common room that doubles as a kitchen. The gym area and training rooms. A large swimming pool above that. And a myriad of other floors Natasha didn't bother to remember. 

She entered the elevator and was greeted by Tony’s AI butler.

“Greetings Miss Romanoff.” said the distinctly british voice.

“How are you Jarvis?”

“Doing quite well Ma’am.” 

She scrunched her nose for a second. “Don't call me ma’am, makes me sound old.” she told the AI.

“You are” he replied simply. She swears she caught a little teasing in his robotic voice.

She winced. Snarky little shit. “Thanks” she said. “Where’s Hill?”

“Miss Hill requested that you meet herself as well as the rest of the Avengers in the missions briefing room. She declined to specify why that is. Shall I direct you there now?”

“Please”

The rest of the ride was short and silent, the AI not popping up again. Soon enough the elevator opened up. This was where Tony usually hosted guests for formal occasions and such. Up the short flight of stairs was the mission briefing room that partly connected with one of Tony’s labs. 

As she approached the room she could see the entire team as well as a few others. Hill was dressed neatly and stood in the front of the room, her tablet in hand. She was motioning to the display screens behind her. Seems like another Hydra base, looked like somewhere in Spain. 

Tony was seated laidback in front of her in a rolly chair spinning in half circles. He was fidgeting with a pen in his hand. Steve and Sam sat behind Tony and at the table. Both of their postures were rigid but Sam seemed to be a little more relaxed than the Captain. Dr.Banner stood to the left of Tony and was slightly leaning on the table. His arms crossed in a defensive manner. Thor, dressed in normal human clothes, was pacing around the room still listening to Maria’s talk. Clint was fully sitting on the table with his legs hanging off the side. He seemed to notice her before she even got to the room.

She tapped on the glass to announce her entrance. All heads turned to her and Maria motioned her in. She nodded to the smattering of greetings she received and walked around the table to stand by Clint.

“Now that you are all here, I wish to tell you that Romanoff will not be going on this mission.” Hill’s announcement was met with raised brows. After a few seconds of silent confusion Steve finally spoke up.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his brows scrunched in confusion and concern. His question was more directed to herself than Hill. 

“You want to explain or shall I?” Maria asked her.

“I’ll do it.” she told her. She didn't want to go into all of the details about how her sister became an assassin that could rival her. That she left her at the mercy of the KGB. She shook her head. ‘She can take care of herself’.  
She looked up from her thoughts to see the entire room looking at her with attention. “Well, next weekend I will be going to France.”

“What she gets a vacation and we don't?” Tony exclaimed playfully. The look on Hill’s face wasn't exuding amusement. He held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, continue.” he motioned to Natasha.

“My sister is currently in France, now that I don't work for SHIELD anymore I have the freedom to go to her.” There were a lot of shocked faces in the room. Only Maria and Clint seemed to be unsurprised. She continued before they could interrupt. “And now that I leaked all of Hydra’s files, I know exactly where she is.”

“Wait wait wait, you have a sister?!” Tony exclaimed. “Since when?” he asked disbelievingly. 

“Since a long time ago.” she said dryly. “We trained in the Red Room together, became assassins together. But I joined SHIELD alone.” she looked down to her feet, attempting to hide the shame written across her face. “She was in the KGB longer than I was. She left herself, killed her way out.”

“Who else knew about this?” piped up Banner. The surprise was starting melt off his face, he seemed to be more curious than anything.

Clint raised his hand. Maria also nodded her head. “The two of us.” she said. “I only discovered this recently. After reading through hours worth of Hydra files I found a few names that connected back to the Red Room. In the files Hydra expressed their interest in two sisters. Natalia Alianovna Romanova and her younger sister Yekaterina Alianovna Romanova.” Maria told the assembled group. “They’ve got 35 to 40 years worth of mission reports. Some in cooperation with the Winter Soldier.”

“How in the hell do you have 40 years worth of mission reports?” wondered Tony. 

Banner and Thor also seemed quite curious with this development. Meanwhile Steve and Sam seemed to be more interested in the brief mention of the Winter Soldier. Clint was indifferent so far, that'll probably change when he hears exactly who here sister is. Maria just seemed excited to read off all of the information she learned about the two sisters, especially Cat. 

“The Red Room used some kind of knock off of the super soldier serum the Americans used on Steve.” she said while motioning to Steve. “They wanted assassins that could last throughout the Cold War and beyond.”

“Huh” was Tony’s thoughtful response.

“You and your sister worked with Bucky?” asked Steve. 

“The few times I worked with him, the missions were pretty cut and dry. Observe the target, kill the target, retrieve any information, return. We never talked outside of the usual mission lingo.” she told them. “As for my sister I don't believe she ever worked with the Winter Soldier. Catherine was trained for long term infiltration missions.”

Maria tapped away on her tablet. “Seems like Hydra got their hands on all of the files within the KGB, mostly about you and your sister.” a few more seconds of tapping. “Says here that Agent Romanova, no codename, was an expert in language, poison, and seduction. Most of her missions lasted longer than six months, the longest mission lasted five years, a mission in which she was married to the target for two of those five years. In total she completed 41 years of service for the KGB until 2006. In those 41 years she completed 29 infiltration and assassination missions and 13 normal assassination missions. 21 of those 29 infiltration and assassination missions involved the target being killed with scorpion poison. As were 7 of the 13 normal assassination missions.”

Clint let out a low whistle “Quite a rap sheet.” Sam commented. The others nodding in agreement. 

“Oh that’s not even the worst thing on there.” smiled Maria to the surprise of the others. “After Natasha here joined SHIELD the KGB wanted another Black Widow, so they recruited a girl named Yelena Belova to become the next Widow. It says here that Yelena boasted that she was going to kill Natasha to truly become the next Black Widow. Out of all the other KGB operatives that loudly expressed their interest in killing the Black Widow, the younger Romanova made an exception to destroy Belova’s hopes at killing the original Widow. What’s interesting about this case is that Yekaterina fought Belova as loudly and publicly as possible, not like her usual fights. The medical reports for Belova is quite gruesome. There are no video records of the fight but it says that there were over 150 to witness Yekaterina’s beatdown of Belova. Belova somehow survived her injuries and seemed to have never mentioned killing Natasha again." 

By this point Maria looked positively delighted at the beatdown she just read about. Natasha chuckled internally. She remembered feeling immensely proud after she read that part of the report. Clint laughed especially loud when she told him about over the phone one morning, prompting Laura to scold him loudly in the background.

“This coupled with the fact that she uses poison as her main method of assassination earned her the moniker of Deathstalker.” Maria told them. Clint look very surprised, he looked to Natasha for confirmation. She nodded. The others saw this interaction, obviously not knowing about the legendary assassin. 

“What’s with Barton?” Tony asked Natasha. 

“Nat here neglected to tell me that her sister was one of the most internationally wanted assassins right along with Black Widow.” Clint’s voice colored with disbelief. 

“Internationally wanted?” wondered Steve. “I don't remember ever seeing anything asking for Natasha’s arrest. I understand she was an assassin but what made her and her sister international targets?”

“Well let me enlighten you.” Clint told Steve. Tony, Sam, and Bruce all seemed very interested in what Clint was about to break down. Thor was still pacing, only slightly listening to the conversation. While Maria was doing whatever she was doing on her tablet. 

Clint elaborated. “Yes Nat was an assassin but the level of ruthlessness the KGB underwent to kill a target was barbaric. Understand that the majority of Nat’s Black Widow crimes have been forgiven since she joined SHIELD, and especially after New York but some countries still call for her execution. But Black Widow’s kill counts while under the KGB numbered in the thousands, mostly innocents. The KGB didn't allow anyone or anything to stand in the way of a completed mission.”

Maria piped up. “Yeah, the files here state that in Black Widow’s kill count in her 40 years under the KGB is this: 92 targets killed, 578 other enemy combatants killed, 2,491 innocents killed, and 39 KGB operatives killed.”

Like she had told Fury and countless others before her, she had far too much red on her ledger to ever be truly forgiven. She looked around to observe the reactions of her teammates. Tony looked slightly disgusted and disturbed, refusing to look at Natasha. Bruce’s back was towards her but he could tell by the hunch in his shoulders that he was not expecting something like that. Steve and Sam looked more understanding, they too were looking for their friend Bucky who was also an internationally wanted assassin. Clint and Maria looked sad, maybe a tad bit understanding, they certainly weren't surprised. Thor looked indifferent. She figured he killed his fare share of enemies in all of the years he’s been living, probably made some mistakes along the way. 

Maria continued on the Deathstalker’s report. “As for the Deathstalker’s kill count in the 41 years of KGB service: she has 42 targets killed, 341 other enemy combatants killed, 1,057 innocents killed, and 193 KGB operatives killed. She was reported to be prone at lashing out at other KGB agents after missions, inadvertently killing them. They punished her severely but never killed her due to her usefulness.” 

“I’m guessing that because her missions were longer and more precise that she had a lower kill count than Natasha’s?” inquired Steve. Maria nodded. “Hm. So what about after their time in the KGB?” he asked.

“SHIELD records never kept track of those kinds of things as they were unimportant. That’s why we have nothing for Natasha” Maria told Steve. “However Hydra continued following and attempting to capture the Deathstalker well after she left the KGB. According to Hydra records Deathstalker started operating as a freelance assassin out of France in 2009. So according to Hydra’s records in the 8 or so years Yekaterina was out of the KGB she killed 13 targets, 52 Hydra or KGB operatives, 79 other enemy combatants, and zero innocents.”

“So the innocent’s death toll was more of a ‘the KGB orders anyone dead who gets in the way’ opposed to a ‘we killed innocents because we felt like’.” Bruce commented. Natasha nodded at this. She did what she was ordered, no matter what happened to those who got caught in the crossfire. Bruce probably understood to some extent, his Hulk persona was not something anyone wanted to be caught in. 

“You mentioned that she killed Hydra operatives, I’m going to guess Hydra wasn't a big fan of hers?” suggested Steve. He was rubbing his chin in deep thought.

“They weren't, according to the last KGB report on the day she left, she had killed a visiting Hydra agent on her way out of the facility.” reported Maria. “Hydra did want to capture her for some time, maybe turn her into something similar to the Winter Soldier. But it seems that after many failed attempts at capturing her, they decided to change her status to kill on sight.”

“Your sister sounds like a strong warrior!” exclaimed Thor. “I would be honored to fight alongside her in battle.” 

Natasha and the others around her let out small chuckles. He was right. Cat was a formidable opponent. No matter who she was facing she always seemed to have some kind of plan in the works. She wasn't sure what to do after she came in contact with her sister. Would she come to America? Maybe Natasha can stay in France for a while? What if she was on a job? Does she have friends? What is she had a lover, or some kind of real relationship? Would she break that just to be with Natasha?

“You said you found her?” Steve asked. Natasha nodded. “Where is she now?” Natasha couldn't blame him, he was probably hoping that her sister had some clues on where to find his friend Bucky. Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. Natasha had no clue.

“She’s actually a teacher now.” she told them. “Teaches Russian in a school in Cannes.”

“Really?” Steve smiled. He seemed happy for her sister, that she was cleaning up her ledger in a different way than Natasha was. 

“That’s probably good for her.” Sam said. “Doing good things for others, keeping yourself occupied helps, especially with people who have gone through the things she has.” Natasha silently agreed. When she joined SHIELD she felt like she had a purpose she could fulfill, to keep her mind off all of the things she has done wrong. Hopefully as a teacher, Cat could find ways to redeem herself too. Seemed like Bruce agreed with that sentiment.

“What do you plan on doing in France?” asked Steve. 

“Just be with her.” she told the group. “Stay throughout the rest of the school year. Meet some of her students. Meet some of her co-workers and any friends she has.” Natasha thought for a moment. “We can probably come over here during the summer to meet you all. We’ll probably hang out at Clint’s place for a while.”

Clint nodded at that. “I’m sure we’d enjoy that.” That probably meant that Laura would love to have a new person come over. Also that Cooper and Lila are meeting their second aunt for the first time. Hopefully Cat would accept them. She’s has to be good with kids if she’s a teacher, right?

“Do you want any of us to come with?” asked Clint. 

She was secretly touched that they all were silently offering to support her when she reunited with her sister. She knew that Tony, after the meeting, would arrange a private jet for her to take her to Paris. She knew that Steve and Sam were willing to postpone their search for their friend in favor of being with her. The Bruce, no matter how much an introvert, would do his best to be supportive. Even Thor, who really had nothing better to do, would have a blast with her in France. 

“Thank you, really, but I should be fine.” She smiled. 

“Well, good luck Natasha.” Steve said, sending her a warm smile. The others followed suit giving her good wishes.

“Hill, is it ok if I step out with Nat for a moment?” asked Clint. Maria just nodded. As the two exited, all attention turned back to Maria and the debriefing.

She and Clint stood on the landing of the stairs leading up to the debrief room. “So you’ll be gone a few months?” asked Clint, it seemed like he already knew the answer to that question. “You know Laura and the kids won't be happy.” he chuckled out. 

“Well you can tell them that I am bringing back a new aunt for them to play with, I’m sure that will shut them up for a while.” Natasha said with a smile, Clint laughing right along with her. “As for Laura, I’m sure she can hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

Clint nodded “You're probably right. I just don't want her to worry too much. You know how she can get with me. Imagine if we are both out of the house for awhile.” he told her worryingly. She knew Clint wasn't too worried, just being cautious. It was touching really.

“Everyone will be fine Clint. I’ll be back before you know it. Aaaand I’ll call Laura twice a week, just so she doesn't worry.” she suggested. He sighed, rubbing his face worriedly. She put a hand on his arm giving it a small squeeze. “My sister and I are the two greatest assassins in the world, I doubt anyone will be too keen on stepping up on us.” she told him.

Clint chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’m sure you two will be fine. I know Laura will be excited to meet Catherine after all the stories you told about her. I’ll also let the kids know that Aunty Nat will be bringing home an Aunty Cat.” joked Clint. Natasha gave a small laugh. 

“Don't be surprised when Lila is disappointed when I didn't bring her a real cat.” they both shared a laugh. “Besides, I think Cat will be great with the kids.” she told him. “She always had a soft spot for the younger girls in the Red Room. And now she is a teacher, if she is able to teach a class of 15 or more kids, I doubt Cooper and Lila will pose much of a problem for her.”

“I can't wait to meet her.” smiled Clint.

“And I can't wait to see her again.” she replied. “I sent an email to Hill, who will probably forward it to Tony, who will set up a private flight for me in a week. So I should start getting ready for my trip.”

On his way back up to the briefing room he shot back a final goodbye. “Good luck Nat.”

She entered the elevator and sent herself down to the bottom floor. From there she’ll need to go on a small shopping trip to prepare for her trip to France.

AN: Again apologies for the late chapter. Hopefully I’ll be able to start posting every weekend from here on out.


	4. Silk

AN: Missions chapter.

Wanted to make a short announcement before this chapter. School is starting to pick up and college is very unforgiving when it comes to being behind on school work. I am starting to write longer chapter for you all, but I can't do that and keep up with the school work I currently have.

So expect chapters to take a bit longer to be posted. Same goes for my other fic as well. 

“Hello”=Normal speech (French)  
“приветствие (Hello)”=Normal, non french, speech  
‘Hello’=Thoughts

Be sure to read the little language tidbits each chapter just so you know what language is currently being spoken. 

Raina will be the name Catherine uses for the time being.

StormNightSS: Thank you for your reviews! 

Disclaimer: I don't own the MCU or Marvel Comics or Armani (brief mention)

Warnings: Violence, cursing, etc.

Enjoy!

April 18, 2014, Cannes, France

I sat in in the lavish cafe, my eyes closed, yet still aware of my surroundings. I heard the seagulls cawing above me, the incessant chatter of my fellow patrons. I could feel the warm breeze glide across my bare arms. I could smell the salty sea smell that floated on the air.

It was around midday, and April, in southern France. The weather was a beautiful 19 degrees celsius, 67 degrees fahrenheit if your an American. Her school was currently on Easter Break from the 18th of April to the 28th of April. Her duties as a teacher were taking a much needed break. She could tell by the droves of teenagers that were passing by her spot in the cafe that they were enjoying their much needed break as much as she was.

I wore a short sleeved, dark green, blouse, which was tucked into a tight fighting pair of blue jeans. Simple, yet comfortable and breathable, allowing her to enjoy the sunlight and pleasant weather even more so. I was glad for the brief respite from teaching and exam planning. I hadn't gotten out and about nearly as much as she wanted to and the break finally allowed me that freedom.

The break also gave her time to work her other job, as Deathstalker. She had taken a job under the moniker several months ago. It was an on and off job for her mostly because of her position as a teacher but also her client was scrambling for information. Luckily for them there was a breakthrough, which prompted a meeting. A meeting which would take place in a few minutes, at the cafe she was sitting at currently.

I took another calm sip of her hot chocolate. Many would question her asking why she would pay so much just to sit at the Armani Cafe just to drink hot chocolate. I never really liked coffee, it gave a jolt of caffeine but it didn't last, and she just didn't like the taste. And hot chocolate tasted great, no matter what time of the year it was. And nobody doesn't like hot chocolate, or at least no one she knows doesn't like it. Those who do comment on her weird tendency to spend copious amounts of money to sit at an Armani cafe and drink simple hot chocolate are exposed to her Deathstalker glare. I can drink whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want, wherever the hell I want. She’s the goddamn Deathstalker, one of the best assassins on the planet, who are they to tell me she cant drink some fucking hot chocolate. 

If those motherfu-. The loud scraping of the chair across from her interrupted her hot chocolate rant, probably a good thing lest her mind wander to another unimportant rant about some other warm beverage. 

Across from her sat the 21 year old high school dropout Cindy Moon, or more publicly known as Silk. Silk was a super enhanced human with fast reflexes and agility, as well as enhanced strength, speed, and stamina. Her ability to achieve perfect balance in any position at any time, combined with her ability to crawl on wall, and her durability in battle made Silk one of the most sought after mercenaries in the business. What made her more appealing was her ability to shoot silk strands from her fingertips as well as her ability to create super sharp claws out of the silk she can spin from the tips of her fingers. Rich men around the globe clambered for her services, easily making hundreds of thousands of dollars before she turned 21.

She wasn't sure what her relationship with Cindy Moon was. 

On one hand, she and Cindy were business partners. Cordial at best whenever they met up for business. On missions Cindy acted playfully and cheerful, but she knew that is only a shtick Cindy created for herself while on missions. Sometimes Cindy’s dislike for their shared client spilled its way into conversation, making it all too personal for Raina. Business was business, it should strictly stay that way when they are conducting information sharing or a mission.

On the other hand, I didn't mind the connection we had. When we met outside of our occasional business talks we would usually strike up a comfortable conversation, shit-talking our client or complementing the weather, all the while drinking hot chocolate and looking out of the sea. 

Now was another ‘on the other hand’ times. A time to discuss the upcoming mission.

Cindy wore a white long sleeve shirt with small red stripes, tight black jeans, and a small necklace with a small red letter S hanging on the end over her chest. Her jet black hair spilling down her back, brown eyes full of childish excitement. Cindy was moderate 5’7, three inches taller than herself.

“Hey there Raina.” Cindy greeted exuberantly. 

“Hi Cindy” she replied, a small smile playing across her face. ‘Glad to see Cindy didn't lose her excited nature’. 

“Been a few months hasn't it?” Cindy asked her. I just shrugged, she hadn't really noticed. She was busy teaching her kids to notice the amount of time that passed between their meetings. A waiter approached their table. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.” Cindy told the waiter. The man nodded and retreated back to the kitchens.

“I see your French has gotten much better.” I complimented.

“You think?” Cindy asked happily. I nodded, she seemed happy at my acceptance. She continued. “After living in France for a year, I had to fully learn French at some point, and I knew you wouldn't switch to English just for me.”

“You are correct.” I smiled at her. “Are we finally going on a mission?” I asked. Cindy was the person who usually notified me if there was an upcoming mission. “The last few months have been nothing but silence from Sims.”

“Yes actually.” Cindy said. “I agree. We haven't done anything for months. I’m not like you where you have an actual job outside of being a mercenary. Sims might give me something to do once in a while, but it’s so boring.”

I caught a little whining in Cindy’s tone. Deciding to distract Cindy from her woes, I asked her a question. “What kind of solo missions does he send you on?” 

Cindy brightened up. “Oh, well he told me to find other people like me.” Cindy leaned in, whispering lowly. “Ya know, the spider, web slinging, type people.”

I just nodded. So more people with powers similar to the ones Cindy possesed. There can't be many people around the world with similar powers. “Must have been a hard search.” she commented. “You find any? People like you, I mean.”

Cindy nodded excitedly. “Yeah, yeah. So first there was one lady who wasn't too receptive, ya know? She has a kid and everything, Jessica Drew I think her name was. Anyway, when we talked she wanted nothing to do with our missions, cause she had a kid and everything. Kid is, like, three by the way. And the kid obviously can't take care of itself, so she denied our request.” Cindy finished off, a little dejectedly, before brightening up slightly. “Buuut, she said she would join, if and only if, it was a dire emergency. So, that’s something at least.” Cindy said with a small shrug and frown.

The waiter arrived at their table once again, setting down Cindy’s drink, before walking off again. After the man was out of earshot did they began talking again. “You made it sound like there was more than one person that you found.” she stated to Cindy.

“Oh yeah, ok, so this second lady I actually talked too a while ago, like two years ago. At the time I wasn't working for Sims, we just sorta, found each other, ya know? Cool, anyway, at the time she was freelancing for the government, SHIELD and all the likes, but her ex-husband died, and she had a daughter. So she couldn't do much merc work anymore cause she had to take care of the kiddo. Now, two years later, we talked again. Now that her daughter is 17, she can start working around again. Her name is Julia by the way, and her daughter is Rachel.” Cindy said excitedly. “So she and her daughter are going to come to France in the summer so they can start helping us out and all. So we finally have two more people.” Cindy said, giving a small jump for joy while she was still seated.

She shook her head at Cindy’s exuberant jump. The kid really had too much energy for her own good. “Well that’s good. I won't have to deal with you on my own.” She said jokingly. 

Cindy scoffed in fake hurt, holding her hand to her chest. “How dare you?” Cindy couldn't keep the smile off of her face, giggling a little bit all the while. “How ‘bout you, how have you spent your months teaching?” Cindy asked her.

“Well like you said I’ve been teaching for the entire school year. They just added the Russian language to their curriculum this year, so it was an elective, which wasn't too popular so I only have 17 kids in my class, ages ranging from 15 to 18.” She explained to the younger girl. “And since I never officially teached an actual class before, I was behind on lesson plans and all that teacher stuff during the beginning of the school year. But I found my school legs soon enough. Now I am planning exams for my older kids because they will be off to college next year, unable to continue their Russian tutelage. As for the younger kids, I will continue teaching them for the rest of their school careers.”

I chuckled at the glassy look in Cindy’s eyes. I became rather passionate about my teaching over the course of the year. I loved to teach. Ever since my days teaching those girls in the Red Room program, at the dead of night, did I find love in teaching. To her teaching felt like an escape. A way to give back to the world. After all of the blood she shed and the pain she caused, she can finally give something to the young people who inherit the world the had scarred. 

Cindy broke out of her daze when she noticed I had finished speaking. “Sounds like a lot.” she commented. “You really seem to like teaching. I can't imagine doing it. One of the reasons I dropped out of school was partly because I hated my teachers. Maybe they were just shit at their jobs, but still.” 

“No, no. I understand. I know some teachers just do their jobs just because it’s their job. But others just love the act of teaching. Giving knowledge to others, trying to make them better people. Making an effort to make your teachings interesting. All of those things make me want to teach.” I explained. 

Cindy shrugged “I wouldn't know, but it sounds like you would be a good teacher. Maybe if you were one of my teachers I wouldnt have ran away from home and dropped out of school, ya know.”

“Ha” I scoffed. “Yeah right. You ran away from home because your mother was trying to fix something you didn't want fixed and you realized life could be a whole lot better if you dropped out of school. More money, more independance, action, whatever you wanted to do you could do it.” Her home life was decent, but not great. A brother who was scared of her because of her powers. A father who honestly didn't know what to do. And an overbearing mother who wanted to fix her daughter for being different. 

“Weelllll, that’s true.” It looked like Cindy tried to rationalize some kind of argument against her statement but couldn't come up with anything. “I’ve sent a few postcards, just so they know where I’m at. I mean, I still love them and I know they still love me, even my mother. Maybe one day I’ll go back, but for right now I am happy.”

“That's good.” I nodded. It made me think about my sister and our non-existent parents. Our mother was a factory worker during the second world war. After the germans invaded Russia, they enacted extensive war crimes upon the people of Russia, especially the women. The man who sired Natalia was a Wehrmacht soldier who most certainly raped our mother. I remember Nat telling me how our mother was a heavy drinker after she was born. A few years later I came along, my father, according to Natalia, was a factory worker that left our mother during her pregnancy. Shortly after I was born our mother drank herself to death, leaving Natalia to care for me. 

I closed my eyes and broke the depressing thoughts. I had no need for parents, Nat was still there for me.

“My sister is actually coming to visit me soon, maybe you can meet her.” I suggested. I wasn't really sure why I was suggesting this, but it seemed like the right thing to do. 

Cindy looked excited at the prospect of meeting my sister. “Really, I get to meet the infamous Black Widow!” Her excited shout drew a few questioning glances. 

I just ignored them. “Quiet.” her excitement quickly died down, she looked significantly cowed. 

“Sorry” she muttered dejectedly. 

“Besides” I continued. “Isn't meeting me, the Deathstalker, enough.” 

“Yeah yeah, but we know each other. We’re friends and stuff. But I’ve never met her before, so you can't blame me for getting excited.” Cindy told me with a smile. 

‘Huh. I guess we are friends. That’s nice, I guess.’

“You said Sims finally has found something. So what do you have for me?” my voice becoming slightly more serious.

Cindy picked up on my tone. “Right, well Sims finally got a name. Morloon. Or Morlun, something like that.” she waved her own mispronunciation away. “He’s got a mansion on an island, half a mile south of here.”

“Sainte-Marguerite you mean?” I questioned.

“Pretty sure, yeah. Sims wants us to infiltrate and procure some information. Any information really. Sims honestly has no idea where this guy is and only just figured out his name and one of his residences across France.” Cindy told her. 

“You have floor plans, guard shifts, everything?” I asked her.

“Yeah, here.” Cindy reached into the small bag she brought to the table. She pulled out several manila files as well as a roll of blueprint. I stood up and quickly dragged another table to connect to ours, making it easier to lay out everything. 

“If anyone asks, we’re contractors.” I told Cindy. She just nodded in agreement, more focused on laying out everything.

Cindy finally laid everything we needed down. The mansion was a large four story, 900 square meter property. Large for being on a small island at least. With 20 rooms and 11 bedrooms, you could house several families with a building like this. The guard presence was supposed to be minimal as this Morlun character had just left the premises taking most of his guard with him. Sims wanted us to break into the man’s personal study and find any information that may be useful to him.

It was going to be an interesting mission considering they only had a week to prepare for the infiltration. Sims didn't want us to use guns, too loud, noticeable. It was a small island, as well as a tourist attraction with a small hotel. So any noise could attract unwanted attention by the French authorities and could bring both operation into light. That would force both Sims and Morlun further into the shadows. It could take years before they came to blows again, leaving Cindy and I to go job hunting. 

As Cindy would say, ‘that would suck’, so let’s not do that.

April 25, 2014, Île Sainte-Marguerite, France

We spent almost every waking hour since our meeting planning the mission. We watched patrols around the mansion, inspected our points of entry. The study was on the third floor, which also held a long balcony, an easy route for guards to patrol. So getting in and out on the fourth floor was out of the question.

Cindy’s best bet would be the second floor. The first and third floors were full of guards, and to get the fourth floor you had to go through the third floor. The basement had a seperate entrance on the south end of the mansion, we even got into it a few times, allowing us to record everything about the guards and their patrol routes. So the second floor on the south wing was the best we could do. There were 50 guards in total. At least 10 were patrolling the woods in pairs at all time. There were 15 guards on the third floor as that is where the office was. There were 4 guards on the second and fourth floors. Then 3 guards in the basement and finally 14 guards on the first floor. Making the second floor the best choice. 

The study had no windows and was located on the east wing of the mansion. A single guard had the master-key. I just need to get it, it was in the basement. Three guards will be no problem. So while Cindy took care of the second floor guards, I’ll get rid of the men in the basement and get the key.

From the pictures I’ve seen online my suit is very similar to Natasha’s during the Battle for New York. My suit was a tight catsuit, like Natasha’s, except it was a dark green color. My suit was also bulkier than my sister’s. I had several thick pieces of kevlar armour covering her neck, chest, and thighs which were colored a slightly lighter green than my suit. I also wore a dark yellow face-mask that covered the lower part of my face the nose, mouth, and ears. My hair was tied up in a messy, yet compact bun. Hidden in the bun was a mantis karambit knife for self-defense. 

On my belt I carried 10 throwing knives that were all dipped in a deadly poison, if the knife didn't kill them the poison most certainly would. 

She also had two small needles and their respective poison vials. 

The green needle was dipped in a toxin that would render the victim unconscious. If she were able to poke this needle in a main artery of blood vessel the victim would lose the ability to speak, all other body functionalities would cease to work in around 30 seconds. By a minute the victim will be fully unconscious and won't regain any body functionality for at least 3 hours.

The yellow needle was dipped in a much deadlier toxin than that of the green needle. If used, the yellow needle’s toxin would immediately attack the heart and lungs and muscles. The muscles would seize up and would lose all functionality in 10 seconds. The heart and lungs would cease to work in under two minutes, killing the victim. 

Cindy wore a two-piece skin-tight bodysuit that also doubled as body armor. Her black tights ended above her waist with two small grey lines going down the center of each leg, eventually splitting off to have another line down the back of her leg. The top half of her body was covered with a white skin-tight body armour, the undersides of her arms being black and grey and her neck line a bright yellow. She also wore black fingerless gloves, allowing her to spin her silk. As well as a black face mask that only covered her eyes. Her long black hair tied into a ponytail, her hair reaching the small of her back. 

The island was half a mile off shore. A 10 minute boat ride for them. It was an hour off midnight by the time they arrived. We avoided all the forest patrols. Getting to the south wing was easy enough.

“Second floor here I come.” muttered Cindy.

“Good luck” I told her.

We split. I saw her climb the side of the wall as quick as can be. Pop open the second floor window, and slipped in. 

I turned to the unlocked basement/cellar doors that lead into the ground. The steps led into a small concrete basement. Two guards sat around a cheap white table, playing solitaire or something. Beyond those two there was a small room where the last guard sat and watched the monitors. 

The two nearly-silent sounds of knives sinking into flesh was heard. Two thuds, the men play cards were dead, two knives in their heads.

‘I hate throwing with my left hand’

I thought as I slowly opened the monitor room door. The screens flicked to the second floor where Cindy was beating up a few guards, the monitor man was about to call for backup but I slipped behind him and cut open his throat. His head thudded onto the blood stained keyboard.

I searched his pockets and found the key. Easy. 

A minute later I was back outside scaling the walls of the mansion. I may not be able to climb nearly as well as Cindy but I made good time to the safe window.

I slipped into the window and headed to the stairway. Cindy was waiting for me at the steps. I could see the guards she incapacitated. Some here hanging by their feet off of the ceiling. Others had their entire head enveloped by her silk strings. 

“I see you did well.” I commented.

She shrugged. “They weren't too hard to beat.”

We creeped up to the third floor. It looked like Cindy had already dealt with a few guards here as well, judging by the wriggling silk cocoons on the stairway.

“Jeez, you really wrapped these guys up.” I said.

She chuckled sheepishly “Yeah I, uh, was looking at a painting.” I raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “They took me by surprise. Ok, well almost. My silk sense caught them before I did, and I sort of panicked a bit.” 

I sighed disappointedly, rubbing my head. Seriously, caught off guard. We are the infiltrators, we are supposed to be the ones catching other off guard. 

We starting creeping down the halls, it was a winding maze of rich mahogany wood walls and paintings of old people. Boring, hiding from the guards was easy. With a mazelike floor plan hiding in shadowy corners and unoccupied rooms was a piece of cake. 

“You know what this place looks like?” Cindy queried to her, her voice a whisper.

“No” I replied evenly. 

“Bruce Wayne’s manor.”

I looked at Cindy questioningly. “And who is Bruce Wayne?” I asked, continuing to slowly creep down the dark hallway. I realized Cindy stopped in her creeping. I turned to see her looking at me incredulously. “What?”

“You never read the Batman comics?!” the younger girl exclaimed in a whisper, quickly catching up to me.

“No” I intoned. I didn't really get the excitement over comic books. Some of her students read comic books, but she never found them interesting. 

“Any other comics, maybe the Captain America ones?” the girl asked. 

“Nope” I said matter factly, popping the p. 

“Wow, your childhood must have sucked.” she said.

“Yep” 

“Seriously, no comics?” 

“I was raised to be an assassin at a very young age, taught to kill, observe, destroy in any way. Reading comic books was the last thing our handlers wanted for us.” I told her sternly.

“Sorry.” she said quietly. “I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories.”

“It's fine” 

We finally reached the study, a pair of guards just passing by. It should be 5 minutes before the next patrol comes around. 

We unlocked the door and slipped into the study. It was nearly barebones. Fuck.

“Really” I said aloud.   
“I hate closed doors.” Cindy muttered. “We worked our asses off for this, an empty study with nothing in it.” She threw her hands in the air. 

“Just look around, maybe we’ll find something.” I told her.

And we looked. And looked. And looked.

No secret entrance, no hidden cabinet, nothing. But what little we found was interesting. Some old book on black magic, ancient blood rituals, a family line called the Inheritors. 

“We need to get all this to Sims.” I said.

Cindy looked up from her reading. “I’ll take some pictures and then we can scram.”

It took a few minutes for Cindy to take thorough pictures. Once she was done, we waited, listening for the boots of the guards to pass by for a second time. Once they did, the pair slipped outside and closed the door softly.

The journey out of the mansion, through the forest, and back to the boat was slow, not getting caught was the top priority. They were finally on the boat and on their way back.

“Hey” called Cindy over the noise of the boat engine. “Wanna get lunch tomorrow?”

I did, I really did. But I had other things to do. “I do, seriously. But I have a staff meeting tomorrow, and my sister is coming, I was going to fly out and meet her in Paris.”

“Oh” Cindy said glumly. 

“But” I amended. “I’ll be free next weekend and we can go out sometime, get a bite to eat.”

Cindy brightened again. “Ok, thanks Cat.” She smiled.

“No problem Cindy”

We fell into silence, letting the noise of the engine and the lapping waves lull us into a comfortable silence. 

AN: As you may have noticed Cindy Moon, Ezekiel Sims, Jessica Drew, Julia and Rachel Cornwall, and Morlun are all characters in the Marvel Comics. I do want to integrate some Marvel Comics characters/storylines into the fic but overall the main story will be following the MCU.


	5. Czechoslovakia 1968

AN: Flashback chapter to give a little more substance to Natasha’s and Catherine’s relationship as well as a small snapshot to one of Natasha’s KGB missions.

“Hello”=Normal speech (English)  
“Ahoj (Hello)”=Normal, non English, speech  
‘Hello’=Thoughts

Be sure to read the little language tidbits each chapter just so you know what language is currently being spoken. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel and Ota Šik didn't die during the Prague Spring

Warning: Violence, swearing, torture/abuse 

Enjoy!

April 25, 2014, New York City, USA

I shut my black suitcase with a relieved sigh and sat on the edge of my bed. Her flight was set to depart in a few hours and she only just finished packing her bag. With a little shopping help from Pepper and logistics help from Maria she felt sufficiently prepared for her trip to France.

She heard footsteps through her apartment approaching the bedroom. Maria Hill lightly knocked on the already open door.

“Hey” Maria greeted.

“Hi”

Maria leaned on the edge of the door. “You think your ready for this?” Maria asked her.

I was ready. Or at least that’s what my mind told me. My body was more reluctant at facing my guilt and shame I had brought upon myself in the past. “I hope. I really do, but…” she wasn't used to opening up to people besides Clint and even he didn't get the privilege of knowing how emotionally damaged I was inside. 

I trust Maria. She was there when I was first brought into SHIELD, she was a junior agent at the time. She had been my sparring partner whenever Clint was on a mission. She was another constant in my life alongside Clint, Laura, and Catherine. But even now I don't want to tell her of my shame. How I left my sister to the care of a group of monsters who would sooner eat her alive than ever help her.

“It’s alright if you don't want to tell me.” said Maria. I just nodded, thankful that she didn't push the issue. “Just saying, I can come with you if you want. I can get whatever I need over in France.”

“No its okay Maria, I’ll be just fine.” I told her. “When I get over there I’ll give you a call. Maybe when I’m settled in you can have a vacation of your own.”

Maria smiled. “Sounds like a good plan. It’s been a while since I’ve been to France, I’m sure your sister could show us around some nice places.” 

“I’ll give a call, we’ll see.” I told her again.

She raised her hands in surrender. Maria understood that I wanted the subject matter closed. “Just an offer.” she said. “You need a ride to the airport?” They both checked their watches. “Your jet is scheduled to leave in about two hours.”

I smiled. “Yes, thanks. That would be great.” I accepted.

“Alright, Im going to use your bathroom, I’ll be out in a few.” with that she exited the room and went down the hall. A second late she heard the sound of the bathroom door closing softly.

I took a deep breath and released, laying back on my bed. Maybe inviting Maria later on would be nice. Introducing her sister to one of the people she trusted was an interesting prospect. She felt like it would be a nice gesture towards her sister. That she was willing to share the good things in her life. 

She had been communicating with her sister for the past week with comfortable ease. When I thought about it, it didn't feel like we had been separated for years. We talked with ease, comforting each other with our voices that had not reached each other’s ears for over a decade. 

Her voice had grown. Maybe it was the years alone or the new life she has undertook but her voice had changed. She seemed more in control, sure of herself, her identity, her purpose. All things she lost when she was inducted into the Red Room program. Things she lost after she finished emotionally destructive missions. 

I could hear her smile through the phone whenever we talked. I was happy to know I had that effect on her, it made me warm inside that I could still make my sister smile after all these years. I was just glad to hear her voice again. 

I shot a text to my sister 

Nat: Flight soon, see you in Paris?

How had we gone from internationally wanted assassins to two sisters planning a nice trip in France, just doing normal sister stuff. I couldn't help but think back at how much the both of us changed from the assassins we were then to the people we are now. 

(FLASHBACK) August 17, 1968, Prague, Czechoslovakia

Looking down at these people you can tell, just by looking at them, that they have weak constitution. There actions and their words are complete contradictions. Of course they tried to negotiate with the Motherland, they learned their lesson after the Hungarians thought they could split from our cause. Negotiation was the only possible way they keep their heads.

The Action Programme launched by the Czechoslovakian leader Alexander Dubček started to undo the hard work and ideas that were born out of the people of Russia. It was like they were trying to destroy the peace and prosperity the Motherland secured after the war. Our ability to keep the Western ideals was strong but some of our outer territories have been negatively influenced by the dogs in the west. 

Ota Šik was one of the men who has been the main planner for the economic plans that were newly introduced to the Czech-Slovaks. Killing the leader of this uprising would cast suspicion upon ourselves but killing one of the men who plans the programs instead of actually being the one who introduces them would be a better approach.

My younger sister Yekaterina was being courted by Šik’s 23 year old son Arno. They had been “together” for 9 months now. Yekaterina had been sent to break her way into the Czech’s inner circle and Šik’s son was the best way to do that. The time had finally come when Šik was essentially alone with his son and his son’s lady, her sister who was under the name Cecille.

Natalia herself sat on the ledge outside of the modest apartment home, the moon lighting her spot dimly and keeping her sufficiently hidden. Once she killed the older Šik, Yekaterina would take care of the younger one. 

“Jaký byl tvůj den můj syn? (How was your day my son?)” Šik asked.

“Byl to příjemný otec. Zejména s Cecille. Šli jsme po ulicích a obdivovali příjemné počasí v tomto ročním období. Doufejme, že Redové se dohodnou na podmínkách našeho vůdce. Takže budeme mít mír a konečně si můžu vzít Cecille. (It was pleasant father. Especially with Cecille here. We walked the streets and admired the pleasant weather this time of year. Hopefully the Red's will agree to our leader's terms. So we will have peace and I can finally marry Cecille.” Arno said with a smile. At this “Cecille” blushed and smiled. It was sickening to see her sister have to act like she loved this Arno bastard.

“To zní velmi příjemně, můj syn. Doufám, že se vy dva můžete brzy vydat. Můžete konečně být součástí naší rodiny Cecille. (That sounds very pleasant my son. Hopefully you two can get married soon. You can finally be a part of our family Cecille.)”

Outside the window Natalia carefully aimed at the back of the head of Ota Šik while Yekaterina slowly pushed hands into her purse, handling the garrote.

“Děkuji oběma za to, že mi dovolil, abych byl ve vašem životě, a vždycky budu mít společný čas. (Thank you both for allowing me to be in your lives and I will always cherish our time together.)” 

With that final proclamation she squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet into the brain of Ota Šik plashing his blood and brains on his son. While Yekaterina whipped out the garotte and choked the man she “loved” to death. 

He struggled but his body was weak and unprepared. His legs reaching for some kind of leverage against his assassin, his hand scratching at the wire around his neck, trying to give himself some kind of chance. It did work. His legs eventually silenced, his hands falling limply by his sides. He died quickly enough. 

She opened the window and approached her sister. She looked so broken standing there looking at the man she probably developed feelings for and his father who gave her love that she has never experienced before. Her eyes were watering with the beginnings of tears.

Natalia quickly came over to her sister and touched their foreheads together, looking into each other’s dull green eyes. 

“Сухие твои слезы Маленькая кошка, эти люди не достойны их. (Dry your tears Little Cat, these men are not worthy of them.)” she told her Cat.

She felt her sister lightly nod at her words.

“Поехали, не нужно заставлять себя поймать. (Let's move, no need to get ourselves caught.)” she told Cat. Her sister just nodded mutely not saying a word until they got back to Ostrava.

September 9, 1968, KGB base, Ostrava, Czechoslovakia

She woke up to yelling and aggressive shuffling of sheets. She woke up to see her sister being dragged out of her bed by several agents, the Commandant watching with his chin turned up.

Natalia quickly sprung out of her bed and followed the men who were dragging her sister away. They dragged her to an empty interrogation room, equipped with grey concrete walls and a one way mirror. 

“Вы проявляете слабость. Вы проливали слезы для тех, кто слабее вас. Это делает вас такими же жалкими, как и они. Вы позор для Родины и ее людей. Мы научим вас больше не проявлять слабости. Ибо мы не потерпим этого снова. (You show weakness. You shed tears for those who are weaker than you. That makes you as pathetic as they are. You are a disgrace to the Motherland and its people. We will teach you to never show weakness again. For we will not tolerate it again.)” Said the Commandant, sneering down at her sister. He struck her across the face before backing away and nodding to one of his men.

Natalia had no idea how he knew that Cat had cried during the mission. Neither of them mentioned her tears during their mission reports.

Two men held her by her arms and forced her to her knees. The man with the whip ripped open the back of her shirt, exposing pale scarred skin underneath. The whip took a step back and, without warning, viciously brought the whip down upon her sister’s back.

CRACK!

Red hair flying as Cat brought her head back in agony. The men held her arms tightly.

“Ты слаб. (You are weak.)”

CRACK!

The Commandant repeated those lines each time he brought the whip down. Her sister’s muscles tensed each time he said those words. 

Ты слаб

CRACK!

Natalia couldn't bare to watch her sister hurt, but she knew she had to follow orders. She walked in front of her sister, to look into her eyes to give some kind of silent support.

Ты слаб

CRACK!

Cat’s eyes were crazed, like a rabid animal. She growled lowly through her gritted teeth, blood leaking from her gums. 

CRACK!

Cat jerked in the men’s arms but they didn't let go. Blood started pooling on the ground underneath her. It leaked from her back and from her mouth.

Ты слаб

CRACK!

This time Cat didn't even flinch when the whip was brought down again. Pure hatred shone through her lifeless green eyes.

Ты слаб

CRACK!

Ты сл-

Cat ripped her arms out of the hold of the two men and launched herself backwards, slamming her bleeding back into the man who made it that way. The two slammed into the concrete wall. Cat wasted no time in turning around and gripping the man’s hair, proceeding to continuously slam his head into grey concrete wall until his skull started to cave in.

The two men she shook off pulled Cat off of their dead comrade. Once again their arms were thrown off the enraged assassin. She swung her fist in a brutal haymaker catching one of the men on his jaw, ripping it completely off of the man’s body. 

The last man backed away fearfully. Cat stepped under the mans defense fists and broke several ribs with a strong kidney shot. Another step lead to a knee slamming into the man's spine, paralyzing him. 

Cat just stood in the room, breathing heavily, blood running down her chin and her open back. The anger in her eyes finally simmering to a dull glow. 

Meanwhile four other still stood in the room. Natalia looking at her sister worriedly. The Commandant watching the scene with mild interest. Two other guards watching Cat wearily making no move to approach. 

“Идите в лазарет и очиститесь. Мы обсудим вашу следующую миссию ровно через 38 часов в моем офисе. Понял? (Go to the infirmary and get yourself cleaned up. We will discuss your next mission in exactly 38 hours in my office. Understood?)”

“да (Yes)” Cat said quietly, still breathing hard out of her mouth.

Natalia slowly walked over to her broken sister and waited till everyone who wasn't them exited the room. She slowly wrapped her arms around her sister and let herself feel the shared warmth they both held. Both hoping for a week to be with each other before they were sent out to kill again.

(END FLASHBACK)

The single vibration of her phone in her jeans pocket brought her out of her deep dive into the dark corners of her memory. She opened her bright green eyes and fished the phone out of her tight pocket and saw that the text was from Cat. Her texts were coming in English, the language I had become accustomed to. 

Cat: yeah, the flight to Cannes starts boarding 10 min after you land. It’s no Stark jet, but I got us first class tickets

Nat: Well well, someone has made some money. 

She smiled knowing how much her sister could go on about teaching.

Cat: what can I say, both of my jobs pay well

Nat: Thats good, you can buy me a lot of things.

Cat: …

Nat: What?

Cat: you have Tony Stark as your personal sponsor, I’m sure he can get you all the boring shit you want 

Nat: I’d rather have a gift from my sister than a gift from Tony Stark.

Cat: k, true

Nat: Hey, Maria is coming out of the bathroom, going to be at the airport soon.

Cat: ooooohhhhh Maria

Nat: Oh shut up. See you soon little Cat. 

She chuckled a bit at the insinuation about herself and Maria.

Cat: you too Talia

 

AN: I plan on doing more flashbacks in the future that will show the differences and changes between the old Natalia and Yekaterina to the new Natasha and Catherine. 

Lots of Post-War Russian propaganda in the flashback. I would think the KGB would feed their assassins that type of crap to them, to make sure they stay loyal to Russia and don't waver in their mission objective. 

I also took a few creative liberties when writing about the Prague Spring. If you want to know the real, unedited, story go Wikipedia it or something.


	6. Flying Economy

AN: Shorter filler chapter showing the distinction between Cat on a mission and Cat posing as Raina. Setting up future relationships and possible story threads that involve some of my OCs. 

“Hello”=Normal speech (French)  
“приветствие (Hello)”=Normal, non french, speech  
‘Hello’=Thoughts

Be sure to read the little language tidbits each chapter just so you know what language is currently being spoken. 

Raina will be the name Catherine uses for the time being.

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

Warnings: Mild cursing 

Enjoy!

April 26, 2014, Cannes, France

I loved and hated the Saturday staff meetings. She loved them because they gave me an excuse to get out of my loft apartment and walk the streets of Cannes. The weather at this time of year was pristine, usually in the mid 60s. She hated the Saturday staff meetings because she had to get up early on a day she usually wouldn't. Especially after last night’s late mission, I really wanted to sleep in. 

As for the meetings themselves, I usually stayed silent, opting to interject whenever one of my students her mentioned. She only taught a single Russian class because not many students actually wanted to learn Russian. The main four languages were English, German, Spanish, and finally Russian. Russian being a brand new program didn't attract a lot of attention. Thus leaving me to teach eighteen 15 to 18 year olds. 

When I heard that a school in Cannes was requesting for a Russian teacher, I was very interested. Although my official credentials are non-existant the school hired me through a series of interviews. After a two month period the school officials called on her and asked her to be the school’s first ever Russian teacher. 

This was my first time teaching in a proper classroom. The only other time I taught to a group was many years ago in the Red Room. There I taught to prevent severe injury and death. Here I taught because I liked it. There I taught because I didn't want my companionship with the girls to die with them. Here I taught because I wanted to be a better person, to give something back.

The staff at the school trusted me even though they knew nearly nothing about me. Not my age, where I was born, my past, my family, nothing to suggest anything. Many times they asked me and many times I made conversation, yet never gave up anything. Saying something, without really saying anything.

Usually I wasn't too withholding about my past. I didn't mind telling some trusted people of the horrors of my past. How dangerous I can be. I was much more open to the facts of my past. I wasn't afraid of what I had did, just ashamed of it. Feeling the effects of how much it hurts me each night in my dreams. 

In the school I had continued to withhold most of my past, mostly because I want to teach for quite a while at this school. I need more time to trust and analyze the people around me, to tell my past would be something I would give them eventually. I know how some will respond, I can read them like that, I can tell whether or not I can tell them of my past. And so far, Cannes seemed like a pretty good place. 

Sometimes I fantasize about telling my friends in the staff and even some of the many curious students about my past. After a long and arduous staff meeting I finally caved into her fantasies.

Several member of the staff and those I considered my friends were a very curious bunch. Fleur, age 37, taught maths. She was a nice woman, sweet, caring, but all too curious. Next was Marco, age 33, taught French Literary studies. Handsome man, quite a bit roguish, and definitely failing at getting into my pants. Astrid, age 36, school nurse. Good looking brunette woman, as boisterous as Marco, and definitely succeeding at getting into my pants. Last was Amelie, age 24, history teacher. Had long blonde hair, very shy, someone I had a little trouble reading at first.

Now, after the meeting, they were all seated in the staffroom. They (more like Marco and Fleur) were grilling me on anything about myself. They sat around small table, Astrid to my left and Amelie to my right, while Fleur and Marco were sitting across from me as they were the most eager to know about me. Amelie was not as curious as them but was always up for a good mystery. 

As for Astrid, they had been close friends and occasional lovers for the better part of 7 months, but they decided not to advertise that. I did tell Astrid parts about her past, even parts that included the violence. But i never told her how far deep she really was, if their relationship ever developed past this friendship then maybe. But for now Astrid doesn't need to know everything.

“C’mon, give us anything.” Marco whined. Fleur looked as eager as he did, while Astrid laughed and Amelie blushed, trying not to look curious. 

I sucked in a deep, dramatic breath before releasing. “Fine”

Fleur perked up from her pouting. “Really?”. Raina nodded.

There was silence. It seemed like Marco and Fleur were thinking. I piped up “So are you going to ask anything? I am not going to just spout information.”

That seemed to knock the two out of their stupor. “We didn't think you ever say yes.” informed Marco. I just raised my eyebrows. “Ok fine. Where were you born?” Simple.

“Stalingrad“

“Born in Russia, huh.” observed Fleur. “Well your French is very good.”

“Learned when I was young.”

“About Stalingrad. Well it's Volgograd now” Amelie said softly. “Changed from Stalingrad in 1961.” I just shrugged, any more information and my age might come into question. 

“Wait so if you were born in Russia, why is your name French?” asked Marco. 

“Could have had French parents who moved to Russia.” I answered. At Fleur’s and Marco’s disbelieving looks, I chuckled. “Ok Raina La Row is not my real name.”

“So what is it?” asked Marco.

“It's a big secret that not many are privy to.” I said. “Are you sure you want to know?” I said, teasing all in my tone.

“Of course we want to know!” exclaimed Fleur and Marco. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Astrid laughing silently while out of the other corner Amelie was nodding shyly.

“Yekaterina Alianovna Romanova” I said proudly. 

“Wow...that’s very...Russian” Fleur said, eyebrows raised in surprise. Marco nodded in agreement. Fleur seemed to be thinking “I could have sworn I have heard the name Romanova somewhere, or at least something similar.” said Fleur.

I just shrugged. If Romanova was associated with the my sister, well I wasn't too keen on explaining that she was the sister to one of the most feared assassins in history. Hopefully none of her colleagues or students read the leaked Hydra files. If you dug far enough into the files you discover a goldmine of information about Deathstalker and her many aliases, including my real name. 

“How about those scars.” Marco said, pointing to the ones on her face. “If you don't mind me asking.” he quickly amended, seeing the dirty look Astrid shot him.

I didn't think it would be appropriate to explain that one of my marks discovered who I was and tried to kill me. Would be worse if I told them I killed him afterwards by causing multiple lacerations to his head and neck areas. If they ask I’ll go with the abusive boyfriend stance. “Got my face smashed into a glass cabinet.” I stated bluntly.

They all winced in sympathy. “What happened?” Amelie asked. 

“Abusive boyfriend” 

“Oh” was all Fleur said. “What happened to him?”

“Lets just say he won't be seen for a very long time.” I said cryptically. 

“Prison” Fleur nodded sagely.

Eh not quite, but they don't need to know that. 

“Ok, so how old are you?” Marco asked, quickly steering away the conversation from the less desirable topics. 

“Depends on who you ask.”

“Oh come on, you have to be no older than 25.” said Fleur. “You look beautiful.” Marco nodded enthusiastically while Astrid just chuckled under her breath, nudging me in the side. 

“Thank you” I smiled. 

The group fell into a comfortable silence. I was just happy to get some of that off of her chest. Even simple information like that always felt like it was a burden. I always had secrets that weighed me down. I can hardly confide in anyone besides her Talia. 

Ever since I got that text, the picture of the scar, the Little Cat in Russian; I had never been happier in my life. My sister going to come get me, a day later Talia had sent me a picture of a plane ticket to Paris. A few hours later I bought my own plane ticket to Paris so I could meet my sister at the airport. The flight from Paris to Cannes was barely over an hour, so they could crash at her apartment when they got back to Cannes. 

A large smile grew on my face. “Whats up?” Astrid asked quietly. The others were too engrossed in their own conversation to notice the two of them whispering to each other.

I turned to look into Astrid’s hazel eyes. “My sister will be landing in Paris in a few hours. I’m going to fly up and meet her at the airport. We were planning on flying back to Cannes together.” My smile was infectious as it spread to Astrid as well. 

Astrid gave her a wide smile. “That's great.” she smiled. “Does she know about, you know, us? Maybe you should do your own thing for a while, give you and your sister some alone time?” 

“No, no it's fine. I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.” I said softly. “The flight is in a few hours so I’m going to head back home and get ready.”

“Ok, I’ll be here for a few more hours. The administration wants to go over the medical records of several students with me.” Astrid told me.

I nodded and stood. The others took notice. “You leaving?” asked Marco. I just nodded. “Let me walk you out.” Marco said as he stood. I rolled her eyes behind his back causing Astrid muffle her laughter. 

The man couldn't take a hint. Or several if the last few months were any indication. Marco seemed very insistent on getting taking me out to dinner or something of the sort. Many months ago when both Marco and Astrid attempted to get in my pants, he was much more forward with his feelings, whereas Astrid was focused on creating a stable friendship. Unfortunately for Marco, I was never into men. Or maybe I was but after years of fake relationships with men that always ended in a bloody way, my brain created a natural avoidance of relationships with men. 

With my missions coupled with the fact that I lived with a group of girls is probably the reason I was messing around with Astrid now. It took a few months of gentile insistence that herself and Astrid go out to dinner. From there they went on another dinner, and another. To the point where we became really good friends and occasional lovers. A few months later I divulged parts of her past, luckily for her Astrid took it in stride and continued to be my friend.

I was glad to have people like Astrid in my life. She was always there to lean on. Always there to be a stress reliever. She didn't mind that I had a dark past and a bloody reputation. She was willing to lend her friendship to someone who needed it. And for that I am truly grateful. I was very very lucky to meet a person like her. 

Marco and I finally reached the entrance of the school. “How about we get a bite to eat some time?” Marco suggested. I faced him and gave him a deadpan stare. She could see his face fall. “Thats a no.” he confirmed, his face fallen into sullen disappointment. 

“It is.” I countered.

“Can’t we do something to just hang out?” he wondered. His eyes pleading for a yes.

I sighed heavily and put my hands on my hips. “I don't want anything other than a friendship with you. If you continue to ignore that, I wouldn't have any problems cutting off any kind of friendship with you.” her tone was stern, it was like scolding one of her students who had asked to go to the bathroom one too many times. 

I stalked off, indicating that the conversation was over. Marco was a perfectly fine person when he was my friend. But his insistence on starting any kind of relationship past a friendship has gotten quite annoying. 

He’ll get over the rejection and hopefully, finally, understand that I was no longer going to quietly reject his advances. I would reject him as loudly as humanly possible if it meant he finally got the memo. Maybe he needs a good slap to the face and a few loose teeth to get my point across.

Ok, a bit much, but still. It was unnecessary drama that wasn't needed in my life. I would be glad when it was finally over. 

Several hours later

“We will now be boarding Zone 3, please step up to the desk if you are in Zone 3. Again, thank you for flying Air France.”

Flying Economy sucked. I didn't want to spend the extra money on a first class ticket up to Paris. Flying Economy was cheaper and it was only for a few short hours before she and Talia were on another plane, first class seats, headed back to Cannes. But still, the cramped seating, no personal space, crying children. It was complete and utter hell. No matter, the most important person in my entire life was a short few hours away. Nothing could stop me from seeing her again. 

She grabbed an aisle seat, the best seat in the entire plane. She inserted her earbuds and played an audio version of one of the exams her students would have to take. 

As soon as I closed my eyes one of the children in front of me chose that exact moment to start bawling.

‘Fucking hell’

Needless to say, it was going to be a long flight. 

AN: I tried to show some of the differences in Raina’s thoughts and personality compared to Cat. They are the same person, yet they act very differently in different circumstances. 

I think Catherine/Raina is much more open about her past because she knows people. She can tell whether or not they are trustworthy or how they will react to certain information. Cat/Raina has the ability to become a totally different person, to change everything about her. Sometimes she just wants to be herself, to be Catherine. That choice was stripped away by the Red Room and now that she is free, she loves that she has a choice whether or not to divulge who she really is. And if everything goes south, she can just disappear into the wind, become a new person again.


	7. Together Again

AN: Again, another short chapter. These next few will be a bit shorter before we get into the real meat of the story a.k.a. The Inheritors.

“Hello”=Normal speech (French)  
“приветствие (Hello)”=Normal, non french, speech  
‘Hello’=Thoughts

Be sure to read the little language tidbits each chapter just so you know what language is currently being spoken. 

Raina will be the name Catherine uses for the time being. (Natasha will call her Cat or Catherine.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel 

Warnings: Language 

Enjoy!

April 26, 2014, Paris, France

The constant toneless drone of the plane added to the privacy and comfort of a Stark Jet made her eight hour trip to Paris feel more like an hour long drive. Once I got settled into the jet I couldn't shake the nervousness or anxiousness that plagued my mind for the past week. There had always been an anticipation while I was discussing plans with Maria while packing my bag. The idea that her sister was a plane ride away was always something that I was aware of, but now that I was on that plane, it was a totally different story.

In my mind I didn't know how I should react. 

Should I go run and jump into her arms like those videos on Youtube? 

Should I cry? 

Should I just hug her? 

Some many things ran through my mind it made thinking about anything else impossible. All I could look at to distract myself was the deep blue ocean peaking through the clouds. It’s color never changing for hours since her flight from New York. I was strictly off missions for the next few months unless it was an emergency. Maria had been especially insistent that I do not distract myself while on the trip. She even bought me a ‘Communication Skills for Dummies’ book as a joke. Or at least I hope it was.

Even then I couldn't read with all the thoughts in my head. I had texted Catherine throughout my short trip from my New York apartment to Stark’s private airstrip. The communication we shared through a screen or through voice felt so easy. But the thought of actually talking to her face to face terrified me. 

She decided to call Cat one more time before her flight from Cannes to Paris took off.

The phone rang three times before Catherine answered the phone. I easily slipped back into my mother tongue while we spoke.

“Екатерина (Catherine)” I greeted.

“Наталия (Natalia)” My sister greeted back.

“Я просто хотел услышать твой голос, прежде чем я приземлился. (I just wanted to hear your voice before I landed.)” It felt weird telling her these things. Our level of personal and emotional communication wasn't at that level yet, but I had to get if off my chest. 

“О, действительно, почему? (Oh really, why is that?)” She was so genuine in her question I couldn't help but answer.

“Я нервничаю. (I’m nervous.)” Was my answer.

“Ой.” She paused, letting the line go silent for a few seconds. “Почему ты нервный? (Oh. Why are you nervous?)” Damn, why did she have to be so good at asking such simple yet effective questions. Maybe it was something about being a teacher.

“Я скоро увижу тебя. После всего- (I’m going to see you after so long. After everything I-)” The proper words could barely tumble out of my mouth before she interrupted. 

“Ты не сделал ничего плохого Талии, сколько раз я должен тебе сказать? (You didn't do anything wrong Talia, how many times do I have to tell you?)” She said this so simply, like it was something I could let go so easily.

“Но я… (But, I…)” Once again I struggled to voice my thoughts. 

“Все в порядке, Талия. Серьезно, все в порядке. (It’s okay Talia. Seriously, it’s okay.)” Damn her and her soothing voice.

“Я не чувствую этого для меня. (It doesn't feel that way for me.)” I thought this outloud. It’s what I’ve thought everytime Cat expresses her excitement for my upcoming trip. 

“Мне жаль слышать это? Я очень рад видеть вас снова, обнимать вас и быть с вами, как мы привыкли назад, когда мы были детьми. Мы снова можем уснуть вместе, как мы привыкли. (I'm sorry to hear that? I for one am very excited to see you again, to hug you and be with you like we used to back when we were children. We can fall asleep together again like we used to.)” The words almost brought tears to my eyes. Almost. 

“Я тоже так чувствую. Я не знаю, почему я так нервничаю, что вижу тебя лицом к лицу, понимаешь? (I feel that way too. I don't know why I'm so nervous to see you face to face, you know?)” I do feel the same. But I hold so much guilt and shame over how I left her. How can she not feel anger towards me, after I left her to suffer?

“Наверное, я знаю, но это не убивает меня, как будто это творит. (I guess I do, but it's not killing me like it seems to be doing you.)” Her words are so simple, yet they still cant bring out my thoughts and emotions. 

“Мне жаль беспокоить вас этим. (I'm sorry to bother you with this stuff.)” I told her. 

“Эй, эй. Это не проблема, мы сестры, мы доверяем друг другу этим. (Hey, hey. It's not problem, we're sisters, we trust each other with these things.)” It’s amazing how she can comfort me, yet confuse me endlessly. We have barely been communicating for a week and she is bringing out feelings I locked away years ago, never to touch them again. 

“Спасибо, кошка (Thanks Cat)”

“Нет проблем, Талия, вот для чего я здесь. Это то, для чего я всегда буду здесь. (No problem Talia, that’s what I’m here for. That’s what I’ll always be here for.)” I love her so much, especially when she says things like that so casually. 

“Люблю твою сестру. (Love you sister.)”

“И я люблю тебя, сестра. Мой полет посадку, я увижу вас в аэропорту? (And I love you sister. My flight is boarding, I’ll see you in the airport?)”

“Конечно. (Of course.)”

“Хорошо, спасибо, что позвонил мне. (Ok, thanks for calling me.)”

“Я хотел. (I wanted to.)”

“Хорошо, спасибо. (Well thanks anyway.)”

“Нет проблем. Люблю тебя. (No problem. Love you.)”

“Люблю тебя тоже. (Love you too.)”

“Прощай. (Goodbye.)”

“До свидания. (Bye.)”

I ended the call and leaned my head back on the headrest. The war in my head still raging, yet kept out of mind by my sister’s loving words. She had been so soft and caring whenever she talked with me. I’ve never seen that side of my sister before in my life. I’ve seen her act like a rabid animal killing anything that got in her way. I’ve seen her act so uncaring it almost unsettled me. But now I’ve seen her act so caring and so strong, It’s like meeting her for the first time again. 

When their mother told me she was pregnant I was so excited to have a little boy or girl to take care of. And when our brought home this tiny, squishy, pink, little baby I loved her the moment I saw her. Even when I was forced to take care of her when our mother passed out drunk in our tiny apartment I still loved taking care of her. I felt as it was my duty to take care of this precious little thing to love it so much because our mother never loved and took care of me. 

My thoughts were interrupted by the wheels of the plane bouncing up and down on the tarmac. A minute later the plane stopped, a black sedan waiting for me on the tarmac as I exited the plane, attendees already taking my luggage off of the plane. 

“Which terminal will you be going to ma’am.” the driver asked in French as I entered the car.

“B” I said simply. He just nodded and drove. It was a short minute and a half drive till we got to the main collection of terminals. 

“Have a good day ma’am.” he said. I just nodded in return.

I entered the crowded terminal. Past noon on a Saturday, of course the airport would be crowded. But it didn't stop me from seeing her in the crowd.

Her hair was a darker shade than mine, almost a reddish brown unlike mine which was a much lighter shade of red. Her curly hair sat several inches below her shoulders where as mine sat several inches above my shoulders and was significantly less curly. Her cheekbones were less defined than mine and also sat slightly lower than mine, she got that mostly from our mother. Her eyes were a bright shade of green, unlike the dull grey and green I saw in her Hydra profile picture. Her lips less pouty than mine, and also much thinner than my own. Her skin was nicely tanned, it made the small scars on her face stand out more. It probably made the ones on the rest of her body especially apparent. 

She spotted me.

Her smile was wobbly as she walked towards me. I’m sure mine was too. 

Public displays of affection was not something my sister nor I were used to. It could wait until we got home. For now the short hug that she gave me was enough. To feel her fleeting warmth on my skin to feel her love projected through the short hug she gave me, meant the absolute world to me. 

She pulled back. I could see the tears threatening to spill out of her brilliant green eyes.

“Посмотри на себя,” I said, looking her up and down. “все выросли на меня, да. (Look at you, all grown up on me huh.)”

She looked to her feet sheepishly. “Да (yeah)” she said quietly, trying to keep her tears at bay. She took a deep, shuddering breath before looking up at me again. Her smile threatening to split her face. A smile I haven't seen in decades. “Пойдем,” she said, taking my hand lightly. “у нас есть полет, чтобы поймать. (Let’s go, we have a flight to catch.)”

She led us through the bustling men, women, and children around the airport. We dodged stray suitcases and mother’s pushing strollers. We checked our gate on the big screen and walked on one of those ground escalator things. Then we checked in at our gate and boarded the plane to our first-class seats, sitting next to each other. All the while she held my hand, never letting the warmth escape from out tentative embrace.

On the plane ride to Cannes Cat took a nap. Must have had a long day. She did mention the Saturday meeting she had as well as the mission she took up the day before. Our hands remained linked throughout the flight while I just watched her sleeping face. Such a peaceful look, something I haven't seen in so many decades. 

I gripped her hand slightly tighter before our plane landed, allowing her to wake up and shoot a soft smile in my direction. 

We exited the plane, grabbed my bags and took a shuttle over to Hour-to-Hour parking where Cat parked her green G29 Z4 BMW. 

I decided to call Clint while Cat was driving.

I easily switched from Russian with my sister to English while on the call with Clint. I knew my sister would be listening while she drove but I didn't care. 

Clint picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, you there?” was the first thing out of his mouth. 

She chuckled. “Yeah I’m here.”

“And?” he questioned.

“And I have her.” I saw Cat chuckle lightly out of the corner of my eye.

“Hey.” he said happily. “That’s great Nat.”

Cat nudged my shoulder, brow scrunched in confusion, ‘Nat’ she mouthed questioningly. 

I waved off her questioning of my nickname. She must be surprised that I allowed this person to live and call me Nat at the same time.

“Ha, yeah. I hope you and the boys will be able to survive without me for a few months.”

“Ah, we’ll be fine. Besides, we got Maria being a hard ass all the time so no worries there.” he joked. True, Maria is a had ass, especially when it came to Tony. 

Cat winked at me suggestively, a smirk on her face, at the mention of Maria. I just rolled my eyes at her constant innuendos about Maria and myself.

“Well that’s good.”

“Yeah.” he paused for a second. “I’m assuming your sister is putting her super hearing to use and listening to the call?” 

I quickly put the phone on speaker allowing Clint to be heard throughout the car. “Yeah, your on speaker.”

“Good. So hey,” he greeted my sister.

“Yeah?” Cat questioned.

“Jeez” Clint mumbled “So um, Laura, my wife, and our kids are, ah, pretty excited to meet you.” he sounded cautious.

“Yeah I heard. Talia has been telling me all about it.”

“Talia?” he said questioningly, not used to hearing my old old nickname in use.

“The person you call Nat.” she emphasized the word Nat, obviously not liking it. I just laughed.

“Hey, I-” I cleared my throat loudly, not wanting to listen to another Clint rant. “Sorry. So, yeah, like I said the family is excited to see you. Laura wanted me to say that you can call anytime and she can't wait to meet you. Same with the rest of the team, they also want to meet you. I’m pretty sure Thor would like a spar and Tony, Banner, and Dr.Cho want to run some poison antidotes by you. Also Lila was wondering if you would buy her a cat.” Cat chuckled while I laughed. I just knew little Lila would want a cat.

“Ha, sure, why the hell not. And tell Laura I’ll give her a call sometime this week. I bet I can beat Thor, no problem. Also tell Stark he’s an asshole, Banner no thanks, and Cho that I’d love to. Also tell Maria that I’d like a word with her.” Clint started laughing at the Stark part and I slapped Cat’s arm when she mentioned Maria, again. 

“I’ll be sure to get your messages across.” he chuckled.

I gave my sister a look that said enough. She just laughed it off.

I took the phone off of speaker.

“Your sister sounds great. You sound happy.” Clint said amusedly.

“I am.” I said simply. It was true.

Cat smiled at that as she drove. I smiled too.

“See you later Clint.” I said softly, still staring at my sister’s smiling face. 

AN: I know the reunion may have felt simple or boring or predictable. It felt that way when I was writing it. But this story is more how their relationship develops after their reunion than the reunion itself. We hear a lot of Natasha’s inner thoughts throughout the chapter and the story will definitely include how her thoughts and emotions on her sister develop throughout the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will be posting this story both to here and FFN. As for updates, I'm finding it hard to write this story right now. But I hope to get back to writing this story as soon as possible. 
> 
> Thanks!


	8. Just the Start

AN: Yeah this chapter is late as hell but a combination of school work, relationships, and lack of motivation to write this story has caused this chapter to be late. Hopefully I can try to get chapters out a bit more consistently but it is still up in the air. 

I think one of the reasons for this delay is because how I started writing the story in first person. It feels like such a chore to write this way. So from now on I will be writing in third person.

 

StormNightSS: Thanks my man. I hope others feel the same way. 

“Hello”=Normal speech (French)  
“приветствие (Hello)”=Normal, non french, speech  
‘Hello’=Thoughts

Be sure to read the little language tidbits each chapter just so you know what language is currently being spoken. 

Raina will be the name Catherine uses for the time being. (Natasha will call her Cat or Catherine.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel 

Warnings: Language 

 

Enjoy!

 

April 27, 2014, Cannes, France Catherine 

Waking up, after so many years without your sister, only to find she was sleeping soundly next to you was a mind boggling experience. She wouldn't be surprised if Natasha felt the same way. The sun streamed into the bedroom illuminating the white bed sheets. Natasha’s shock of bright red hair was the newest addition to her nearly spotless bedroom. 

“I can hear you thinking.” her sister said dryly, Talia’s back still facing me.

“Sorry.” she said. She was still tucked under the covers. Her head barely peeking out of the fluffy white blanket.

Natasha sat up revealing her black tank-top and grey sweatpants. Her suitcases were scattered around the room, two of them open with clothes spilling out of them. She rubbed her eyes, looked out the window at the rising sun, then back down to her. 

“What are you thinking about.” asked Talia.

Cat shook her head. “Nothing, it doesn't matter.” She said while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Just thinking about some people.”

Natasha just shrugged and threw the covers off herself, walking to the bathroom to wash up. 

Cat watched Natasha go before flopping her head back down onto her pillow. 

Last night was an emotional and physical mess. We both sat on her couch and just talked for hours and hours. Mostly about what each of them had been up to when they had split. 

They both had shed a few tears, not enough to be considered crying, but Cat thought it could be called advanced sadness. Maybe Talia would disagree but she didn't really care at this point.

They both entered her kitchen to prepare something. Cereal was really all she had for breakfast food. Natasha set about preparing their “lavish” breakfast while Cat leaned on the counter, watching her sister move around the kitchen, making herself familiar with all of Cat’s meticulous habits of placing things in certain cupboards.

“I went on a mission with Cindy recently.” she commented casually.

“Mhm, you told me about it.” Natasha said matter factly. “You said that Cindy was very excited to see me, I just thought she would be satisfied with you, but I guess not.” Talia said with a smirk.

“Well of course I told her that but apparently I, the great Deathstalker, plays second fiddle to the hero Black Widow.” Cat said playfully. 

Talia just chuckled as she held the two bowls and led them over to the small dining table that sat by the window that overlooked the cramped street below. 

They ate in relative silence until she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

She rubbed her nose but kept her hand over her mouth. “We have a peeper in all black, not really hiding from our sight, or maybe he thinks he is but he sucks.”

Natasha laughed while asking: “Roof behind me?” she asked with a fake smile plastered on her face.

Cat still kept her hand over her mouth. “Yeah, probably more around the apartment.” She said before taking her hand away from her mouth lest their watcher become suspicious. Cat bent low as so her face was out of sight of the window, acting like she was picking something up. “No bugs as far as I can tell, if there were I would have noticed long ago.” She stood up and put a pen on the table beside her.

Natasha nodded and stood, picking up their half-full cereal bowls and bringing them over to the sink where she faced the wall while washing out the bowls. “You have a roof access?” Talia asked while still cleaning. 

“Yeah” she answered. “Most of the buildings around here have that kind of problem.” she said offhandedly. 

“That’s good.” Natasha said “I’ll go street level and find a way up to another building, you secure the roof above us.” Natasha said before finally turning away from the sink.

“You can change and head out first, get a lay of the land.” she said. “I’ll catch up and then we can both head to the waterfront.” Cat said. Their watchers were most likely reading their lips and were expecting nothing more than the two sisters going out to the waterfront.

Talia nodded with a smile and disappeared into the bedroom. Less than a minute later she came out fully dressed and headed out the front door with a quick passing nod to Cat.

After Natasha left she made her way to the closet and grabbed a pair of gardening gloves.

After putting those on she quickly entered her bathroom and maneuvered her way up to the skylight. She popped it open slightly and scanned the surrounding roof. He saw a piece of equipment perched on a larger skylight that peered down into the courtyard of the apartment complex. The man who would be using said equipment was looking over the edge of the building, presumably looking at Talia who just exited the complex.

She slipped out of her small bathroom skylight an hid behind the larger skylight before knocking over the radio equipment.

The man sighed irritably, walked over to the other side of the skylight, and bent down to pick up the dropped equipment box. Cat swung her leg out and sweeped the man’s legs from under him before she slammed her elbow in his windpipe, crushing it. The man sputtered, tried to make any noise, but soon became still. 

Cat heard nothing on his radio. The other watchers didn't seem to be suspicious.

She peeked her head over the edge and made a quick sweep of her surroundings. There only seemed to be three other watchers, their attention on Natasha, not noticing that one of their comrades had been silenced.

She ducked down and made her way to the man she killed. In his possession was a FR F2 sniper rifle with a large silencer attached. She ignored it in favor of looking through the man’s pockets. He found several small maps of her neighborhood, pictures of her from her Hydra days, Talia in her skin tight Avengers garb, Cindy’s high school yearbook photo, as well as few other targets. There was a blurry picture of the merc Moon Knight, only recognizable due to his signature hood and crescent moon on his chest. Another picture, a little more clear than the last, a still of security footage showing the Black Cat with her skin tight black suit and her platinum blonde hair. 

Fellow colleagues she has worked with before. 

The final important thing she found was a large golden coin with a large M embossed on the front side. On the back read the phrase “Let the Great Hunt begin” in French. 

She had no idea what the “Great Hunt” was but she was sure the man who hired her, Ezekiel Sims, knew what it was. The old man didn't let much escape his mouth unless it was essential to a mission. Cindy was the only one who actually met him in person.

She shook the errant thoughts from her head, letting herself think about those things late, she delicately picked up the nearby rifle and went to do her business. 

Looking over the edge she saw that another guard had gotten his neck snapped, Natasha crouching over his body, going through his pockets just like Cat had been doing a few moments ago. 

She aimed the rifle to one of the men who had seen Talia’s play and was rushing towards the radio on his roof. Cat tapped the trigger sending a bullet ripping through the man’s skull. Blood, brains, and skull fragments had spread all over the roof. She quickly positioned herself to find the final watcher, who had heard the silenced shot rushed for his own rifle, searching the rooftops looking for the shooter. She squeezed the trigger again, another bullet through the head, another messy roof. 

She saw Natasha motion to her from across the rooftops, indicating that there were no more. Cat nodded and stepped away from the edge. She placed the rifle back by the dead man and carefully slipped back into her own skylight, making sure everything was in place. 

Once they were back in the kitchen Natasha popped a question. “So, who were they?” 

“Well, from the coin I have here.” she said indicating the one in her hand as she held it up. “They were hired by a man named Morlun.”

Natasha just nodded waiting for more information.

“For the last couple of months I have been hired to track down this man and kill him. Apparently there has been a long standing grudge between the society my employer is a part of, his name being Ezekiel Sims, and this family that Morlun belongs to, called the Inheritors.” she explained to her sister, who took all the information in stride. “Cindy and I, soon a few others, will be tracking him down all across France and other parts of Europe. So far he has been staying in France but his exact location is unknown for the time being.” 

“Well we know you are being watched but if he wanted you killed he probably could have found a way to do so much earlier.” Natasha said.

She agreed but didn't voice it. “He’s probably tracking Cindy too. From one of their pockets I found several targets that he had listed besides me, you, and Cindy. I think he is worried that there are more coming after him.”

“Are there?” Natasha asked.

“I’m really not sure. Sims might have hired more but he sure as hell didn't tell Cindy or I. I doubt Black Cat took that job unless there was a huge score she could nab from Morlun. As for Moon Knight, he would only do this job if his god told him to. I don’t know much about his motives but he is a damn good mercenary. If he was with us on the job he would be a great help.” Cat explained to her sister. 

Natasha just nodded. “Well we’ll see won't we.”

Her sister just gave her unquestioned support in something she didn't have to do, damn she loved her sister.

She pulled Natasha into a hug, it was easy now, physically. Maybe they won't ever be the same as they were in the KGB but they could be better.

So much better.

She pulled away from the hug. 

“Спасибо талия. (Thank you Talia.)” she said.

“Все для тебя, кот. (Anything for you Cat.)” her sister said back.

Life was looking up that’s for damn sure.

 

AN: Finally got this chapter out, not sure when the next one will follow. Also time is going to move fast in the chapters. I want to get Cat over to the Avengers so they can interact a bit, same with Clint and his family.

As you can see I changed up the Inheritors a bit, but that doesn't mean they all won't be making an appearance.


End file.
